ROMANCE  AND  REALISM  O 
THE  SOUTHERN  GULF  COAST 

"'  -BY-   '  ~ 
MINNIEWALTERAVYERS 


u 


ROMANCE  AND  REALISM  OF 
THE  SOUTHERN  GULF  COAST 


BY 

MINNIE  WALTER  MYERS 


CINCINNATI 

THE  ROBERT  CLARKE  COMPANY 
1898 


COPYRIGHT,  1898, 
BY   MIXXIK   WALTKK    MYKK: 


0*J      I 


To  MY  FATHER, 
HARVEY   W.  WALTER, 

AND    MY    BROTHERS, 

FRANK,  AVENT,  AND  JAMES  WALTER. 

With  an  exalted  heroism  that 
forgot  all  consideration  of  self, 
they  faced  the  terrors  of  an 
epidemic,  and  sacrificed  them- 
selves that  others  might  live. 


"Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man 
lay  do^vn  his  life  for  his  friends? 


M532983 


PREFACE. 

Acknowledgments  are  due  for  assistance  re- 
ceived from  Claiborne's  "  History  of  Missis- 
sippi;*' Gayarre's  "  Romances  of  Louisi- 
ana History;"  Alcee  Fortier's  "  Louisiana 
Studies;"  "  The  Sketch-book  of  New  Or- 
leans ; "  "  In  Acadia,"  by  Margaret  Avery 
Johnston  ;  "  Letters  on  the  Gulf  Coast,"  by  R. 
A.  Wilkinson  ;  "  New  Orleans,  the  Place  and 
the  People,"  by  Grace  King;  "  Legends  and 
Lyrics  of  the  Gulf  Coast,"  by  Laura  F.  Hins- 
dale,  and  "  Ethnological  Reports." 

The  history  of  a  country  is  incomplete  with- 
out the  preservation  of  its  romances.  Col- 
lecting, condensing  and  arranging  the  material 
for  this  little  volume  has  been  tedious  but 
fascinating  work.  The  author  has  endeavored 
to  make  each  scene  characteristic  and  pro- 
gressive from  the  founding  of  Louisiana  to  the 
present  time.  THE  AUTHOR. 

MEMPHIS,  April,  1898. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.     INDIANS  OF  THE  SEA  COAST,         .         .  7 

II.     EARLY  ROMANCE  HISTORY,        .         .  17 

III.  CREOLES,   ACADIANS  AND   PLANTATION 

SCENES,    .         .         .         .         .         -37 

IV.  NEW    ORLEANS,    ITS    ROMANCES    AND 

PICTURESQUE  CHARMS,           .         .  64 
V.     BEAUVOIR  AND  THE  MYSTERIOUS  Music 

OF  THE  SEA, 95 

VI.     PAST  AND  PRESENT,           .         .         .  117 

ix 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


VIKW    FROM    MEXICAN    GULF    HOTEL,    PASS    CHRIS- 
TIAN,      ......          Frontispiece 

PAGE 

MARTHA  WASHINGTON  OAK,     .....       5 

SQUAW  AND  PAPOOSE, 19 

OLD  FRENCH  QUARTER, 34 

AVENUE  OF  OAKS, 54 

JACKSON  SQUARE  AND  ST.  Louis  CATHEDRAL,    .         .     73 
DRIVE  ON  THE  BEACH,  .         .         .         .         .          91 

BEAUVOIR,        ....         .         .         .         .96 

CHURCH  OF  THE  REDEEMER,          .         .         .         .114 

THE  RING  IN  THE  OAK, 127 


ROMANCE   AND   REALISM   OF  THE 
SOUTHERN   GULF  COAST. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  great  Sun  Chiefs  of  the  Natchez  tribe 
greeted  the  first  morning  beams  of  their  celes- 
tial brother  with  a  prolonged  howl,  then  wav- 
ing their  hands  from  east  to  west,  they  showed 
him  his  daily  path. 

They  did  not  know,  however,  nor  could 
their  great  medicine  men  foretell  them,  that  the 
sun  of  Indian  happiness  and  prosperity  would 
also  cross  the  great  Father  of  Waters,  and 
would  set  in  western  darkness  never  to  rise 
again. 

The  Choctaw  Indian,  the  stoic  of  the  woods, 
boasted  in  the  face  of  Tecumseh's  embittered 
eloquence  in  1811,  that  Choctaw  hands  had 
never  been  stained  in  the  blood  of  the  white 
man.  To  him  they  had  thrown  open  their 
wigwams,  and  offered,  with  proverbial  Indian 
hospitality,  to  divide  their  maize.  The  pale- 
face accepted  the  half,  and  then  seized  the 
fields  upon  which  it  grew.  In  the  beginning, 


Romance  and   Realism 

such  was  the  European  gentleman  and  the  un- 
tutored savage. 

Even  as  Romulus  and  Remus  were  nurtured 
by  a  wolf,  so  were  the  infant  ancestors  of  the 
Choctaws  nurtured  by  a  panther.  When  they 
were  large  enough  to  go  into  the  woods  the 
great  book-maker  gave  them  their  bows  and 
arrows  and  an  earthen  pot,  and  said  to  them, 
"  I  give  you  these  hunting  grounds  for  your 
homes.  When  you  leave  them  you  die." 

He  then  disappeared  in  the  woods.  But 
now,  where  are  they?  The  answer  comes  back 
to  us  in  the  lament  of  the  Choctaw  chief ;  its 
beauty  can  never  be  marred,  though  it  has  been 
so  often  repeated. 

"  Brother,  when  you  were  young  we  were 
strong.  We  fought  by  your  side,  but  our  arms 
are  now  broken.  You  have  grown  large ;  my 
people  have  become  small.  My  voice  is  weak. 
It  is  not  the  voice  of  a  warrior,  but  the  wail  of 
an  infant ;  I  have  lost  it  in  mourning  over  the 
misfortunes  of  my  people.  These  are  their 
graves,  and  in  these  aged  pines  you  hear  the 
ghosts  of  the  departed.  Twelve  winters  ago 
our  chief  sold  our  country.  If  the  dead  had 
been  counted  it  would  never  have  been  made ; 
but,  alas !  though  they  stood  around  they  could 
not  be  seen  and  heard.  Their  tears  come  in 


of  the  Southern   Gulf  Coast. 

the  rain-drops,  and  their  voice  in  the  wailing 
wind.  When  you  took  our  country  you  prom- 
ised us  land.  Twelve  times  have  the  trees 
dropped  their  leaves,  and  yet  we  have  received 
no  land.  Is  this  truth?  Grief  has  made  chil- 
dren of  us  ;  my  people  are  small ;  their  shadow 
scarcely  reaches  to  your  knee  ;  they  are  scat- 
tered and  gone." 

No  scholarly  address  could  have  furnished 
more  profound  eloquence.  No  rules  of  rhetoric 
were  needed  to  improve  the  imagery  of  the  red 
man.  As  the  child  of  nature  he  drew  his  pict- 
ures directly  from  her  heart. 

The  white  man  talks  learnedly  of  an  eclipse 
of  the  sun,  and  explains  the  scientific  reasons 
for  it.  The  Indians  knew,  however,  that  these 
dark  disks  upon  its  surface  meant  that  black 
squirrels  were  attacking  it  to  devour  it.  With 
wild  alarm  the  whole  tribe  beat  their  drums 
and  kettles,  screamed,  shot  their  arrows  at 
the  sun,  and  made  every  possible  noise  to 
frighten  the  squirrels.  Surely  they  must 
have  been  squirrels,  for  after  a  short  or 
prolonged  warfare  they  disappeared,  and  the 
sun  shone  again  with  all  his  brilliance.  These 
same  noises  frightened  away  the  evil  spirits  of 
the  dead. 

The  tallest  tree  fell  beneath  the  touch  of  the 


Romance  and  Realism 

white  man,  but  the  Indian  could  tell  of  his  an- 
cient mammoth  kindred,  who  devoured  every 
thing,  and,  breaking  down  the  forests,  made  the 
Mississippi  prairies.  A  terrible  earthquake  had 
killed  all  but  one.  Affrighted,  he  had  fled  at 
one  mighty  leap  across  the  Mississippi  at 
Memphis  and  sought  refuge  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains. 

At  a  time  of  great  drought  the  elk  and  buf- 
falo also  fled  across  the  Mississippi  river,  but 
the  Biloxi  Indian  could  tell  you  that  the  buf- 
falo would  forever  carry  with  him  the  evidence 
of  his  defeat  by  their  great  Ancient  of  Frogs. 
This  Ancient  of  Frogs  was  endowed  by  his 
grandmother  with  wonderful  strength.  The 
first  antagonist  he  met  was  a  panther,  but  the 
frog  threw  him  against  a  tree  and  broke  his  jaw ; 
then  he  encountered  a  bear,  but  throwing  him 
against  a  tree  he  broke  off  his  tail,  which  has  ac- 
counted ever  since  for  the  short  tail  of  the  bear 
on  the  southern  shore.  When  he  met  the  buf- 
falo he  threw  him  against  a  tree  and  broke  the 
buffalo's  back,  and  to  this  day  the  latter  bears 
a  hump  in  evidence  of  his  defeat.  The  last 
conflict  was  with  a  deer,  whose  leg  was  broken, 
but  the  Ancient  of  Frogs  formed  a  great  friend- 
ship for  the  deer.  Now  when  we  hear  the  shrill 
"pes!  pes!"  of  the  frogs,  mingled  with  the 

4 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 


Romance  and  Realism 

sounds  of  the  splashing  waves  and  sighing 
pines,  we  know  that  he  is  giving  warning  of 
danger  to  the  deer  and  telling  him  that  the 
hunters  are  near. 

The  Biloxi  Indians  never  allowed  a  child  to 
step  over  a  grindstone,  knowing  that  it  would 
stop  his  growth.  How  clearly  interwoven  are 
the  superstitions  of  different  nations !  The 
writer  well  remembers  as  a  child  that  her  dear 
old  black  mammy  would  say  to  her : 

"  Chile,  don'  yer  neber  lay  down  on  de  flo,  an 
let  nobody  step  ober  yer,  kase  ef  yer  do  yer 
won't  neber  gro'  no  mo." 

The  history  of  Natchez  and  Biloxi  is  so 
closely  connected  that  it  is  almost  a  link  with- 
in a  link.  The  Natchez  tribe  did  not  dwell  so 
directly  upon  the  coast  as  the  Biloxis,  Pasca- 
goulas,  Choctaws  and  others,  but  they  felt 
that  it  belonged  equally  to  them.  It  was  their 
frequent  camping  ground.  There  grew  the 
giant  oaks  a  thousand  years  old,  whose  roots 
striking  deep  into  the  earth  found  what  Ponce 
de  Leon  sought  in  vain — the  fountain  of  youth. 
Each  spring  they  budded  forth  in  their  vernal 
freshness  of  beauty ;  the  southern  nightingale, 
the  mocking  bird,  sang  amongst  their  branches, 
and  the  long  gray  moss  hung  from  each  limb 
and  stirred  gently  with  every  breeze.  The 

6 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

Indian  loved  the  fragrant  orange  and  magnolia 
trees,  the  soft  balmy  air,  the  palmettos  uplift- 
ing their  dagger-shaped  leaves,  the  tall  tremb- 
ing  reeds,  the  soft  murmur  of  the  pines,  the 
stately  cypress,  and  the  ever-restless  but  musi- 
cal sounds  of  the  sea. 

Some  writers  describe  the  Natchez  as  equal- 
ing the  Montezumas  in  splendor ;  but  their 
wigwams  were  rude  and  rough,  and  even  their 
temple  of  the  sun  was  only  an  oven-baked 
structure.  It  had  simply  a  rough  altar,  and 
shelves  around  the  wall  with  baskets  contain- 
ing the  bones  of  the  Great  Suns ;  on  lower 
shelves  there  were  baskets  containing  the 
bones  of  favorite  attendants,  who  had  been 
killed  to  attend  them  to  the  Happy  Hunting 
Grounds.  Outside  there  was  a  fence  of  sharp 
pickets,  and  upon  the  point  of  each  was  the 
skull  of  an  enemy. 

When  a  warrior  entered  the  hut  of  the  Great 
Sun,  the  latter  would  be  seated  upon  his  bed 
of  rude  mats,  and  there  was  a  stone  in  the 
middle  of  the  room.  The  warrior  howled  when 
he  entered,  and  before  saluting  the  Great  Sun 
he  would  run  around  the  stone  in  the  middle  of 
the  room  three  times,  howling  each  time ;  the 
more  he  howled  the  greater  the  favor  that 
would  be  extended  to  him.  If  he  were  of 


Romance  and  Realism 

small  importance  the  Great  Sun  noticed  him 
only  with  a  slight  grunt ;  if  more  in  favor  the 
grunt  would  be  more  pronounced,  but  the  war- 
rior could  never  answer  him  without  first 
howling. 

When  we  study  the  customs  and  traditions 
of  other  people  we  are  apt  to  receive  many  of 
them  with  a  quiet  smile  of  ridicule  ;  but  we 
should  pause  when  we  consider  some  of  our 
own  beliefs  and  matters  of  etiquette.  The  im- 
pression that  we  receive  of  a  picture  depends 
greatly  upon  the  light  in  which  it  is  viewed. 

Mississippi  was  the  first  state  in  the  Union 
to  enact  a  law  giving  to  woman  the  control  of 
her  own  property  ;  now  it  has  emancipated  her 
from  all  disabilities  of  coverture ;  but  few  per- 
sons know  that  the  original  statute  was  sug- 
gested by  the  tribal  customs  of  the  Chickasaw 
Indians  in  the  northern  part  of  the  state.  The 
despised  squaw,  who  bore  the  heat  and  burden 
of  the  day,  reached  forth  her  small  brown  hands 
and  struck  off  the  shackles  that  bound  her 
more  civilized  sister.  Under  the  Chickasaw 
law  the  husband  acquired  no  right  to  the  prop- 
erty of  the  wife  which  she  owned  at  the  time 
of  her  marriage,  or  to  the  subsequent  ac- 
quests, and  no  part  was  subject  to  the  debts  of 
her  husband.  The  marriage  ties  were  often 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

lightly  made  and  lightly  broken  ;  there  were  no 
divorce  suits ;  but  when  husband  and  wife 
agreed  to  separate,  the  children  belonged  to 
the  mother.  Her  rights  were  acknowledged 
supreme. 

Many  of  the  Indian  laws  were  very  just. 
When  the  husband  and  wife  died  leaving  no 
children,  the  wife's  relatives  generally  took 
the  property,  unless  the  husband  had  built 
the  house  entirely,  when  his  relatives  inher- 
ited it.  Nothing  could  be  fairer,  for  the  In- 
dian woman  generally  did  all  the  work  and 
built  the  home.  Her  life  was  one  of  absolute 
drudgery;  but  her  burdens  were  laid  upon  a 
perfectly  healthy  body,  one  of  God's  greatest 
blessings,  that  does  not  generally  come  through 
doors  closed  to  the  fresh  air  of  heaven  and  to 
bodies  enervated  by  luxury.  In  those  days 
there  were  in  the  forest  no  sanitariums  filled 
with  delicate  women.  The  realistic  thought 
will  obtrude  itself,  that,  if  the  white  man  has 
taken  the  burdens  from  the  back  of  woman,  he 
has  sometimes,  with  refined  cruelty,  inflicted 
burdens  upon  her  aching  heart  that  are  too 
heavy  for  her  endurance. 

Without  any  woman's  suffrage  movement, 
but  in  the  quietest  way,  the  Choctaw  girl  pos- 
sessed in  matters  of  courtship  rights  that  are 
not  granted  to  the  Nineteenth  Century  girl. 

9 


Romance  and  Realism 

The  latter  must  wait  in  modest  silence  until  she 
is  wooed  and  won,  though  her  heart  should 
flutter  like  a  bird  and  her  cheeks  crimson 
when  she  hears  the  footstep  of  her  beloved. 
To  the  Indian  girl  belonged  the  privilege  of 
giving  the  "  first  banter."  This  was  done  gen- 
erally by  squeezing  the  hand  of  her  brave  or  by 
stepping  upon  his  foot.  Should  he  presume  to 
give  the  first  banter,  she  and  all  the  squaws 
could  fall  upon  him  and  beat  him  most  unmer- 
cifully. In  the  majority  of  tribes  the  Indian 
could  marry  the  sister  of  his  dead  wife.  The 
peace  of  the  tribe  was  not  annually  disturbed 
by  the  ghost  of  a  deceased-wife's-sister  bill. 

The  students  of  Yale  and  Harvard  find  no 
greater  pleasure  in  the  game  of  football  than 
the  red  men  of  the  southern  shore.  Par- 
ticularly did  they  delight  in  the  intricate 
game  of  ball  played  with  a  crooked  stick, 
and  they  were  fully  equal  to  the  present  pro- 
gressive age  in  the  excitement  and  extent 
of  their  betting.  An  Indian  runner  could  travel 
fifty  miles  a  day,  and  when  he  brought  war 
news  he  entered  the  village  with  a  war-whoop. 
This  was  taken  up  by  every  one  he  met  until 
he  reached  the  town-house,  in  front  of  the  pub- 
lic square.  In  health  and  symmetry  of  body 
the  American  Indian  almost  equaled  the  classic 

10 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

Greek.  Disease  and  deformity  were  compara- 
tively unknown  among  them.  Their  system 
of  massage  was  as  efficient  as  our  own  or  that 
of  the  Romans. 

Around  their  blazing  fires  in  the  evening,  or 
in  the  soft  summer  moonlight,  tradition  told 
them  of  their  history,  philosophy,  religion  and 
customs.  To  them  the  white  man's  "  speaking 
bark  "  was  unknown  ;  tradition  and  sign  lan- 
guage constituted  their  encyclopaedia.  There 
were  so  many  tribes  and  dialects  that  in  sign 
language  they  were  most  proficient. 

"Action  is  eloquence,  and  the  eyes  of  the  ignorant 
More  learned  than  their  ears." 

Their  green  corn  dance  was  their  annual 
jubilee,  when  all  wrongs  except  murder  were 
forgiven.  This  was  the  season  when  fresh 
fires  were  built,  and  the  year  started  with  new 
happiness.  Nor  shall  we  believe  that  their 
dancing  was  irregular  and  unpracticed.  Their 
intricate  and  regular  steps  equaled  the  drills  of 
our  modern  gymnasium,  and  with  the  dance  was 
mingled  the  sound  of  their  joyous  laughter  and 
rude  but  rhythmic  music.  Nature  smiled  upon 
her  happy -hearted  children.  The  immense 
live  oaks,  clad  in  their  drapery  of  moss,  lifted 
their  umbrageous  arms  above,  shielding  them 


1 1 


Romance  and  Realism 

from  sun  and  storm  ;  and  the  sea,  catching  the 
sounds  of  their  revelry,  held  them  in  its  depths, 
and  gives  them  to  us  now  in  strange,  mysteri- 
ous music. 

Nor  did  the  heart  of  the  Indian  throb  only 
with  physical  and  material  being.  To  him 
were  given  some  of  the  fine  instincts  of  right 
and  wrong  that  would  have  done  honor  to  the 
Virginia  Cavalier  or  the  New  England  Puritan. 
When  they  borrowed  an  article,  they  returned 
it  promptly  at  the  promised  time.  When  con- 
demned to  death  for  murder,  the  Indian  was 
free  to  go  where  he  would  until  the  day  of  ex- 
ecution, when  he  presented  himself,  made  a 
mark  around  his  heart  for  a  target,  and  calmly 
met  his  doom.  For  him  no  officers  of  the  law 
were  needed. 

They  were  keenly  sensitive  to  ridicule  and 
disgrace,  and  suicides  among  them  for  these 
causes  were  not  unfrequent.  Although  they 
never  mentioned  their  dead  after  burial,  who 
knows  what  real  bitter  tears  may  have  been 
mingled  with  their  weird  cry  over  the  cold 
bodies,  or  what  weight  of  bereavement  and 
loss  may  have  lingered  in  their  hearts  un- 
der a  stolid  exterior  ?  Nor  do  we  know  what 
vague  thoughts  they  may  have  had  of  the 
Great  Spirit — the  Giver  of  Breath.  The 
yearning  to  know  the  truth  is  universal. 

12 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast 

The  Natchez  idea  of  heaven  was  a  perpetual 
feast  of  green  corn,  venison  and  melons,  and 
hades  was  to  eat  spoiled  fish  and  alligators. 

Even  as  the  Sons  and  Daughters  of  the 
Revolution  and  all  other  patriots  love  their 
country,  so  did  the  Indian  love  his — before  it 
was  taken  from  him.  The  proudest  boast  of  a 
Choctaw  was,  "  I  am  a  Choctaw."  They  loved 
not  only  their  country,  but  also  their  homes 
and  children  ;  and  they  loved  their  wives,  how- 
ever much  they  may  have  abused  them — a 
characteristic  sometimes  observed  in  civilized 
as  well  as  savage  life.  It  is  said  the  Pasca- 
goula  Indians,  who  dwelt  in  Southern  Missis- 
sippi on  the  banks  of  the  Escatawpa,  loved  its 
shores  so  dearly  that  nowhere  else  would  they 
consent  to  be  buried.  When  called  away, 
either  in  the  chase  or  upon  the  war-path,  they 
first  stooped  and  drank  of  the  flowing  Esca- 
tawpa, for  there  was  some  charm  in  its  waters 
that  always  brought  back  the  wanderer.  Even 
now  it  is  said  : 

"  He  who  drinks  of  Escatawpa's  tide 
His  bones  must  rest  on  Escatawpa's  side." 

Time  was  marked  by  bundles  of  sticks,  one 
stick  being  withdrawn  for  each  day.  In  this 
connection  is  told  one  of  the  sweetest  stories 


Romance  and  Realism 

of  Fort  Rosalie,  now  Natchez.  The  Natchez 
and  Chickasaws  had  agreed  to  attack  and  sur- 
prise the  fort  at  a  certain  time  ;  but  Stellona,  a 
princess  of  the  royal  blood,  precipitated  the 
attack  of  the  Natchez  before  the  Chickasaws 
came  by  extracting  two  arrows  from  the  bun- 
dle. This  she  did  to  save  the  life  of  her 
French  lover,  Lieutenant  De  Mace. 

There  is  scarcely  a  place  in  this  charmed  re- 
gion of  the  South  which  does  not  have  its  ro- 
mance. Even  now,  when  the  halcyon  birds  are 
flying  in  Indian  summer,  a  soft  gray  haze  is  seen 
on  the  coast.  This  is  said  to  be  the  smoke 
from  the  mysterious  furnaces  of  the  God  of 
Pottery,  who  taught  the  Indians  their  knowl- 
edge of  it,  and  who  lingers  here  reluctant  to 
leave  these  shores. 

One  of  the  most  charming  characteristics 
of  nearly  all  Indian  tribes  was  their  hospitality. 
They  regarded  it  more  of  a  duty  than  a  virtue. 
They  considered  that  the  Great  Spirit  gave 
the  land  equally  to  all,  and  that  it  was  their  duty 
to  entertain  the  stranger  and  the  needy — the 
first  because  he  was  away  from  home,  and  the 
latter  because  the  land  belonged  equally  to 
him.  In  the  majority  of  Indian  tribes,  there 
were  no  stated  hours  for  meals,  but  the  pot 
was  always  kept  boiling  for  the  benefit  of  any 

14 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

who  might  come  hungry.  Even  the  most 
worthless  of  the  tribe  was  never  denied  food  ; 
but  a  lazy  man  who  begged  was  so  covered 
with  ridicule  that  an  Indian  tramp  was  rarely 
seen.  In  this  respect  the  American  tramp  is 
far  ahead  of  the  Indian.  Buckets  of  ridicule 
may  be  poured  over  him  without  injury  to  his 
feelings,  if  the  ridicule  is  only  intermixed  with 
a  few  cold  biscuits  and  cups  of  coffee. 

A  number  of  Indian  families  generally  lived 
together,  sharing  things  in  common.  At  pres- 
ent the  communistic  feeling  is  growing  in  the 
United  States.  Carried  to  an  extreme,  and  in 
the  hands  of  ignorant  and  lawless  classes,  this 
may  lead  us  to  grave  evils,  but  it  lends  an  in- 
terest to  this  Indian  custom.  Ethnologists  call 

o 

our  attention  to  the  custom  as  tending  to  the 
final  equalization  of  subsistence.  They  assert 
that  hunger  and  destitution  could  not  prevail 
in  one  end  of  a  village  while  plenty  prevailed 
in  the  other  end  of  it. 

In  this  chapter  the  habits  of  the  Choctaw 
Indians  have  especially  been  considered  be- 
cause they  were  the  friends  of  the  early  colo- 
nists. The  writer  is  indebted  to  Claiborne's 
History  of  Mississippi  for  much  interesting  in- 
formation. 

Chactas    and   Chicks-a,   two  brothers,  came 


Romance  and  Realism 

from  the  west  led  by  a  pole  held  by  invisible 
hands.  The  pole  stopped  when  it  crossed  the 
river  and  reached  Mississippi  soil.  Chicks-a 
went  to  the  northern  part  of  Mississippi,  and 
his  tribe  of  Chickasaws  became  followers  of 
the  Red  Cross  of  St.  George  ;  while  Chactas 
founded  the  Choctaw  tribe  in  Southern  Mis- 
sissippi and  Alabama,  and  they  followed  the 
Lily  of  France.  Thus  the  foreigners  brought 
with  them  to  this  country  their  seeds  of  envy 
and  discord,  and  planted  them  in  the  hearts  of 
the  red  men. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  claimed  that  these  pages 
have  idealized  the  character  of  the  Indian, 
and  the  character  of  the  pale  face  has  been 
depreciated.  The  terrible  war-whoop,  and 
the  glittering  tomahawk  are  shudderingly  re- 
membered ;  but,  turning  the  light  of  truth  upon 
civilized  history,  we  read  of  the  Salem  witch- 
craft, with  its  horrors,  the  Spanish  Inquisition, 
the  persecution  of  the  Christian  and  the  Jew, 
and  the  tyranny  of  unbounded  power  in  every 
age.  Realizing  all  this,  and  realizing  that  we 
have  taken  from  the  Indian  his  home  and 
nearly  exterminated  his  people,  we  should  at 
least  bury  him  with  a  requiem  of  justice. 

16 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 


CHAPTER    II. 

The  humming  bird  foretold  to  the  Biloxi  In- 
dians the  arrival  of  strangers  ;  it  was  also  to 
them  the  bird  of  truth. 

What  myriads  of  them  must  have  fluttered 
their  brilliant  wings  in  the  sunlight  on  that 
fateful  morning,  in  1699,  when  the  Indian  dis- 
covered the  great  black  birds  with  white  wings, 
skimming  slowly  and  gracefully  the  blue  waters 
of  their  bay.  Silently  and  swiftly  the  little 
birds  of  truth  flew  above  them,  trying  in 
vain  to  tell  the  red  men  how  freighted 
with  change  this  scene  was  to  them.  Try- 
ing in  vain  to  tell  them  that  these  strange  creat- 
ures came  from  the  old  to  the  new  world  to 
change  its  customs,  its  people,  and  the  very 
aspect  of  nature. 

How  strange  it  was  to  them  when  the  royal 
looking  Iberville  and  his  younger,  but  not  less 
noble-looking  brother,  Bienville,  stepped  upon 
the  shore  in  their  gorgeous  dress,  and  with  their 
retinue  knelt  beneath  the  golden  cross,  and 
took  possession  of  the  country  in  the  name  of 
their  God  and  their  king.  More  startling  still 


Romance  and  Realism 

was  the  cannon's  voice  from  its  cloud  of  smoke 
as  it  went  thundering  over  the  waters. 

To  the  Biloxians  their  Thunder  Being  was 
so  strange  and  mysterious  that  his  name  was 
never  mentioned  in  cloudy  weather.  Fearful 
were  they  that  he  would  hear  them,  and  in  his 
wrath  frown  down  upon  them  in  clouds  of  rain 
and  storm.  It  was  only  when  he  was  far  away 
and  the  sun  was  shining,  that  they  told,  in  awe- 
struck tones,  the  stories  of  his  power.  Yet 
these  strange  pale  faces  brought  their  thunder 
with  them,  and,  though  the  sun  was  shining,  it 
spoke  or  remained  silent  at  their  command. 

These  were  not,  however,  the  first  white 
men  to  step  upon  Mississippi  soil.  With  his 
brilliant  but  ill-fated  cortege,  with  his  Anda- 
lusian  steeds,  his  high  hopes  and  bitter  dis- 
appointments, Hernando  de  Soto  had  swept 
from  Florida  to  the  banks  of  the  Father  of 
Waters,  which  he  first  discovered  just  below 
the  site  of  the  present  city  of  Memphis  in 
May,  1541.  He  did  not  realize  that  this 
mighty  river,  which  was  to  be  the  source  of 
wealth  and  prosperity  to  so  many  others, 
would  be  to  him  the  sepulcher  of  his  hopes, 
his  ambitions,  and  his  body. 

About  one  hundred  and  thirty  years  after- 
ward, in  1673,  Father  Marquette  and  Joliet 

18 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 


A  squaw  and  papoose. 


Romance  and  Realism 

came  down  from  Quebec  and  sailed  down  its 
waters  as  far  as  Arkansas.  Being  convinced 
that  it  emptied  into  the  gulf,  they  returned  to 
Quebec  and  reported  their  discovery  amidst 
the  wildest  rejoicings.  In  1682,  Cavelier  de 
la  Salle  was  at  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi, 
and  took  possession  of  it  in  the  name  of 
France.  When  Iberville  and  Bienville  landed 
on  the  southern  coast,  the  pulse  of  the  country 
from  north  to  south  was  beginning  to  throb 
with  new  and  certain  life ;  but  while  La  Salle 
had  planned  a  French  colony  in  the  South, 
Iberville  and  Bienville  founded  at  Biloxi,  in 
1699,  the  first  settlement  of  the  great  State  of 
Louisiana. 

The  sound  is  divided  from  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico  by  a  number  of  islands  lying  at  vary- 
ing distances  from  the  shore.  Between  them 
are  channels  and  passes  leading  into  the  gulf. 
Nearly  all  of  these  islands  are  low,  sandy,  and 
unprepossessing,  but  there  is  not  one  that  has 
not  its  strange  legends,  and  that  has  not  been 
connected  with  the  history  of  the  sea-coast. 

Ship  Island,  the  largest  and  most  important, 
was  so  named  by  the  French  because  it  was 
the  best  roadstead  for  vessels.  Its  harbor  has 
always  been  remarkably  safe  against  storms. 
It  has  not  only  been  a  refuge  for  ships  in  time 

20 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

of  peace,  but  it  has  also  been  of  greatest  im- 
portance in  time  of  war.  During  the  war  of 
1812,  Packenham's  fleet  was  anchored  in  it; 
and  during  our  late  civil  war,  one  of  the  first 
movements  of  the  federal  troops  was  the  cap- 
ture of  Biloxi  and  Ship  Island.  During  his 
reign  in  New  Orleans,  General  Butler  named 
the  fort  at  Ship  Island  ''Fort  Massachusetts" 
in  honor  of  his  native  state.  In  this  fort  he 
confined  persons  whom  he  desired  to  punish. 

Cat  Island  was  so  named  because  when  the 
French  reached  it,  they  found  upon  it  a  small 
animal,  somewhat  resembling  both  a  fox  and  a 
cat.  One  of  Iberville's  men  exclaimed,  "  This 
is  the  land  of  cats."  This  cat,  however,  was 
the  American  raccoon,  which  has  since  become 
so  dear  to  the  American  darkies'  heart  and 
appetite  that  from  it  he  has  derived  his 
sobriquet  of  "  coons." 

The  American  coon  has  borne  his  part  in  the 
history  of  the  country,  and  is  not  to  be  ignored. 
In  the  memorable  campaign  of  1840,  many 
wildly  cheering  processions  of  Whigs  were 
headed  by  miniature  log  cabins  with  coons 
perched  above  them — the  campaign  of  log 
cabins,  coons,  and  hard  cider.  Who  does 
not  remember  also  the  coonskin  brigade  of 

21 


Romance  and  Realism 

Georgia,  the  coonskin  caps,  the  rollicking 
coon  and  "  'possum  "  hunts  of  the  South? 

One  of  the  most  terrible  incidents  in  the 
early  history  of  the  colony  happened  at  Cat 
Island.  Duroux,  the  governor,  an  exacting 
tyrant,  frequently  stripped  his  men  naked 
when  they  displeased  him,  and  left  them  all 
night  on  Cat  Island  exposed  to  the  mosquitoes 
and  sand-flies.  His  men  mutinied  and  killed 
him,  but  they  were  captured ;  one  of  them 
was  broken  on  a  wheel,  and  one  placed  alive 
in  his  coffin  and  his  body  sawed  in  two. 

It  is  said  that  a  pirate's  ship  was  wrecked 
on  Cat  Island,  and  that  it  now  lies  in  the 
sand  deeply  buried.  Sand  storms  have  blown 
over  and  covered  it,  but  sailors  affirm  that 
now  when  a  storm  rages,  the  lost  souls  of  the 
pirates  are  heard  wailing  through  the  wind. 

An  amusing  incident  is  told  as  to  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  Isle  au  Pois  derived  its  name. 
When  the  French  were  encamped  there,  they 
were  attacked  by  " small  flies  or  cousins" 
(mosquitoes),  and  they  fled  in  such  panic  that 
they  forgot  and  left  their  bag  of  peas  on  the 
island.  They  could  successfully  compete  with 
other  nations  on  land  and  sea,  but  the  mos- 
quito was  too  much  for  them. 

The  history  of  Dauphine  Island  is  as  closely 

22 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

interwoven  with  the  early  settlement  of  Louis- 
iana as  that  of  Ship  Island.  In  1701,  Bienville 
received  instructions  to  transfer  the  seat  of 
government  from  Fort  Maurepas,  at  Biloxi,  to 
Mobile,  and  Dauphine  Island  became  to  Mobile 
what  Ship  Island  had  been  to  Biloxi — its  place 
of  anchorage  and  supply  station.  Gayarre 
tells  us  that  when  the  French  reached  the  isl- 
and they  found  it  covered  with  bones,  and  re- 
alized that  some  awful  tragedy  had  been  en- 
acted there,  "but  tradition,  when  questioned, 
lays  her  choppy  finger  upon  her  skinny  lips, 
and  answers  not."  From  finding  these  skele- 
tons the  island  was  first  called  Massacre  Island, 
but  it  was  afterward  changed  to  Dauphine,  in 
honor  of  the  Count  of  Dauphine,  who  ceded 
his  province  to  the  French  monarch.  In  com- 
pliment to  him,  the  wife  of  the  eldest  born  son 
of  the  King  of  France  was  called  Dauphine, 
and  her  husband  the  Dauphin. 

During  the  first  thirteen  years  of  its  strug- 
gling existence,  the  little  colony  was  often 
pinched  by  want  and  absolute  famine.  Some- 
times they  were  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
eating  acorns,  and  several  times  Bienville  scat- 
tered them  among  the  Indians  to  prevent 
actual  starvation. 

Bienville  was  the  second  governor,  Sauvolle 

23 


Romance  and  Realism 

having  been  the  first.  Chivalric,  brave, 
wealthy,  and  talented,  Sauvolle  had  loved  and 
been  loved  by  one  of  the  noblest  women  of  the 
court  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  but  suddenly 
there  came  to  him  the  terrible  realization  of  a 
great  physical  trouble.  Grief-stricken,  he  gave 
up  his  love,  the  brilliant  court,  and  all  that  was 
dear  to  him,  to  face  the  dangers  of  the  new 
country  and  calmly  wait  the  end  that  heart 
trouble  was  likely  at  any  time  to  bring  to  him. 
He  died  in  Biloxi  and  was  buried  there. 

Dazzled  by  a  knowledge  of  the  treasures 
of  gold  and  silver  found  by  Pizarro  in  Peru 
and  Cortez  in  Mexico,  the  French  sought 
vainly  for  mines  only.  They  remained  de- 
pendent on  the  mother  country,  and  were  blind 
to  the  riches  of  earth  and  air  around  them. 

While  our  ancestors  were  starving  in  their 
search  for  gold,  the  Indians  were  enjoying  the 
following  appetizing  cuisine,  as  described  by 
Claiborne :  Tom-ful-la  was  their  favorite  and 
standing  dish.  It  consisted  of  corn  soaked  in  lye 
to  take  off  the  husks,  then  thoroughly  boiled 
with  bear's  oil,  and  sometimes  the  kernels  of 
walnuts  and  hickory  nuts.  They  barbecued  a 
slice  of  turkey  breast,  venison,  and  bear  meat 
together.  They  likewise  pounded  walnuts  and 
hickory  nuts,  passed  them  through  boiling  wa- 

24 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

ter,  and  then  through  strainers  of  fine  basket 
work,  and  this  produced  a  liquor  the  color  and 
consistency  of  cream,  and  of  rich  and  fine  flavor. 

In  1708,  after  nine  years  existence,  there 
were  only  about  three  hundred  people  in  the 
colony,  and  they  had  the  most  meager  posses- 
sions. In  his  charming  book,  the  Romances 
of  Louisiana  History,  Gayarre  has  not  only 
given  us  history,  but  he  has  touched  those 
rugged  times  with  poetry,  and  written  of  them 
with  "  a  quill  dropped  from  cupid's  wing."  In 
this  chapter  are  given  glimpses  of  his  pathetic 
romances  of  Sauvolle  and  Crozat ;  also,  the 
attractive  romances  of  Bienville,  Boisbriant, 
and  the  Petticoat  Insurrection,  with  their  quaint 
phases  and  humor. 

In  1705,  in  a  ship  sent  by  Louis  XIV,  were 
twenty  girls  who  had  been  carefully  selected 
by  the  Bishop  of  Quebec  from  irreproachable 
families  in  Paris.  While  he  had  not  intention- 
ally deceived  them,  they  came  impressed  with 
expectations  of  a  rich  and  splendid  country, 
but  they  found  immediately  the  hardships  and 
dangers  of  pioneer  life.  In  a  few  months, 
when  the  provisions  brought  by  the  ship  were 
exhausted,  they  were  reduced  to  a  sole  diet  of 
corn.  Even  in  those  early  days,  Paris  led  in 
artistic  fashions  and  tastes,  and  the  Parisian 


Romance  and  Realism 

girl  longed  for  her  dainty  surroundings  and 
even  a  few  bon-bons.  The  Petticoat  Insur- 
rection began  against  the  corn  diet.  They  de- 
clared that  the  Bishop  of  Quebec  had  deceived 
them,  and  that  they  would  leave  at  the  first 
opportunity.  Like  sensible,  true  women,  how- 
ever, they  reconciled  themselves  to  the  situa- 
tion, and  bravely  endured  their  part  of  the 
hardships. 

The  number  of  these  girls  was  wholly  in- 
adequate to  supply  the  demand.  They  were 
lodged  in  a  house  to  themselves,  and 
during  the  day  they  were  selected  by  the 
French  bachelors,  but  at  night  a  sentinel  was 
placed  at  the  door.  Dumont  tells  us  that  the 
last  one  left  was  any  thing  but  beautiful — in 
fact,  looked  more  like  a  guardsman  than  a 
girl.  But  so  great  was  the  desire  of  these 
men  for  homes  and  domestic  happiness  that  a 
fight  for  her  possession  was  imminent.  The 
commandant  hearing  of  it,  required  the  rivals 
to  draw  lots  for  her. 

The  colony  languished  until  1712,  when  it  was 
leased  to  the  great  French  merchant,  Anthony 
Crozat,  for  fifteen  years,  with  extraordinary 
privileges.  His  principal  obligation  in  return 
was  to  send  every  year  to  Louisiana  two 
ship-loads  of  colonists,  and  after  nine  years  to 

26 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

assume  all  the  expenses  of  the  government. 
Around  this  period  in  the  history  of  the  little 
colony  Gayarre  weaves  one  of  his  prettiest 
romances. 

Crozat  had  been  the  son  of  a  peasant,  but 
he  was  foster-brother  to  one  of  the  greatest 
patricians  of  France.  His  foster-brother  be- 
came his  benefactor,  educated  him,  and  se- 
cured for  him  a  fine  position  in  a  commercial 
house.  He  married  his  employer's  daughter, 
and  after  his  death,  with  his  wife's  inheritance 
and  his  own  brilliant  successes,  he  became  one 
of  the  wealthiest  merchants  of  France.  His 
wife  and  only  child,  a  daughter,  were  his  idols, 
and  when  his  wife  died  his  whole  heart  was' 
centered  on  his  daughter — refined,  frail  and 
beautiful  as  a  lily. 

The  dowager  Duchess,  touched  with  the  lone- 
liness of  the  motherless  girl,  asked  her  to  visit 
her  palace.  There  the  beautiful  Andrea  learned 
to  love,  with  all  the  intensity  of  her  being,  the 
sole  heir  to  all  these  princely  possessions,  but  he 
was  soon  betrothed  to  another  equal  to  him  in 
rank  and  station.  When  the  preparations  for 
the  nuptials  began,  heartbroken,  Andrea  return- 
ed to  her  father  and  he  learned  the  secret  of  her 
love.  Almost  crazed  with  this  great  grief  in 
her  life,  he  determined  to  do  the  one  thing 

27 


Romance  and  Realism 

that  could  prevent  the  marriage.  It  was  be- 
lieved that  the  noble  girl  who  was  to  marry 
the  son  of  his  foster-brother  loved  another ; 
equal  to  her  in  rank,  he  could  not  wed  her 
because  his  patrician  estate  was  hopelessly 
bankrupt.  Crozat  went  to  him,  gave  him  a 
royal  sum,  and  told  him  that  it  was  due  to 
his  estate  from  an  injustice  of  many  years  ago. 
In  bewildered  surprise  the  sum  was  accepted, 
and  he  married  the  woman  he  loved  and  who 
loved  him.  Then  Crozat  confessed  to  the 
dowager  Duchess  and  told  her  of  his  daugh- 
ter's breaking  heart.  The  Duchess  listened 
in  stern  sadness,  but  it  was  impossible !  While 
she  loved  the  beautiful  Andrea,  the  difference 
in  rank  was  too  great,  nor  could  Andrea  marry 
her  son  unless  her  father  "was  a  Medici,  a 
ruler  of  provinces,  and  had  a  historical  name." 
Crozat  thought  of  the  new  country,  with  its 
untold  riches  and  boundless  territory,  and  de* 
termined  to  risk  every  thing  for  the  happiness 
of  his  child.  Such  is  the  romance  of  Crozat's 
possession  of  the  small  colony  on  the  sea- 
board. If  Gayarre  confesses  to  giving  the 
story  a  few  touches  of  his  imagination  in  re- 
gard to  Andrea's  name,  her  death  and  that  of 
her  father  after  the  failure  of  the  enterprise, 
the  story  is  not  the  less  pathetic,  and  prob- 

28 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

ably  quite  as  authentic  as  many  other  historic 
records. 

Cadillac  was  the  first  governor  appointed 
by  Crozat,  and  the  selection  could  not  have 
been  more  unfortunate.  He  was  utterly  lack- 
ing in  diplomacy,  and  was  narrow-minded  and 
arrogant.  Crozat  had  promised  to  him  a  share 
of  the  profits  from  any  mines  that  he  would 
discover,  and  his  patrician  poverty  was  only 
exceeded  by  his  avarice.  Iberville,  Sauvolle 
and  Bienville  had  received  and  welcomed  each 
friendly  demonstration  from  the  Indians,  and 
treated  their  customs  with  respect.  When 
Iberville  landed  at  Biloxi  the  Indians  rubbed 
his  face  with  white  dirt  in  testimony  of  their 
friendship;  but  when  Cadillac  was  sailing  up 
the  Mississippi  river  and  the  Natchez  Indians 
offered  him  their  calumet,  he  scorned  to  touch 
with  his  lordly  lips  a  pipe  that  had  been  in 
the  mouth  of  an  Indian.  A  few  days  after  this 
the  Natchez  killed  four  Canadians  ;  they  could 
not  understand  Cadillac's  manner,  and  be- 
lieved it  to  be  a  delaration  of  war. 

The  word  calumet  is  derived  from  the  Nor- 
man word  chalumeau,  and  signifies  the  reed 
or  rustic  pipe  smoked  by  Norman  peasants. 
The  French  introduced  the  word  into  Canada. 

A  most  unique  Indian  masquerade  party 
29 


Romance  and  Realism 

was  given  in  the  early  days  of  the  colony,  and 
combined  within  itself  all  the  elements  of 
comedy  and  tragedy. 

In  order  to  impress  the  Indians  with  the 
magnificence  of  the  French  court,  a  party  of 
them  was  induced  to  visit  Paris.  Among  them 
was  the  daughter  of  the  Illinois  chief.  She 
was  very  beautiful,  and  loved  the  commander 
of  the  French  fort  in  the  country  of  the  Illinois. 

There  was  also  with  the  party  that  went  to 
France  a  young  sergeant,  Dubois.  The 
French  court  received  their  novel  visitors 
with  enthusiastic  welcome.  A  deer-hunt  was 
planned  for  the  warriors  at  the  Bois  de  Bou- 
logne, and  the  Indian  maidens  were  toasted, 
feted,  and  were  the  belles  of  the  hour.  The 
Indian  princess  was  converted  to  Christianity, 
and  at  court  her  marriage  with  Dubois  was 
celebrated  with  brilliant  pomp,  and  the  king 
appointed  Dubois  captain  and  commandant  of 
the  Illinois  country.  All  of  the  party  were 
loaded  with  presents,  and  returned  to  New 
Orleans  delighted  with  themselves  and  their 
entertainers. 

Dubois  and  his  Indian  bride  seemed  to  be 
happy  for  a  time ;  but  she  wearied  of  her  civ- 
ilization masquerade,  and  longed  more  and 
more  for  the  freedom  of  forest  life.  Finally 

3° 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

she  entered  into  a  conspiracy  with  her  tribe, 
and  the  members  of  the  French  garrison,  in- 
cluding Dubois,  were  massacred.  The  savage 
instinct  was  irrepressible. 

With  the  first  Natchez  war  is  interwoven 
another  romance  of  those  early  days,  but  it  is 
a  story  of  love,  disappointment,  revenge,  and 
the  fury  of  a  woman  scorned.  Cadillac,  in  his 
churlish  arrogance,  made  discord  with  every 
element  around  him,  and,  jealous  of  Bien- 
ville's  popularity,  was  especially  antagonistic 
to  him. 

Cadillac  nad  a  daughter,  but  alas !  she  was 
not  fair,  having  in  face  and  figure  inherited 
her  father's  qualities  ;  but  she  looked  upon 
Bienville's  noble  face  and  stately  form,  and 
felt  that  it  would  be  sweet  to  lean  upon  his 
strong  arm  during  those  troublous  times.  Her 
heart  went  out  more  than  half  way  to  meet  him. 
Cadillac  considered  the  situation,  and,  think- 
ing that  such  a  marriage  would  be  an  advan- 
tage to  him,  sent  for  Bienville  and  made 
the  offer  of  marriage  to  him.  Astonished  and 
amused,  Bienville  declined  it.  Then  was 
Cadillac's  small  soul  lashed  into  a  fury  of  re- 
venge. He  determined  to  destroy  Bienville, 
and  again  sending  for  him,  ordered  him  with  a 
force  of  thirty-four  men  to  attack  the  Natchez 

31 


Romance  and  Realism 

and  avenge  the  death  of  the  four  Canadians. 
Bienville  protested  that  with  such  a  force  it 
would  be  impossible,  but  Cadillac's  law  was 
like  that  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 

Bienville  started  with  his  little  company,  and 
determined  to  do  by  strategy  what  he  could  not 
accomplish  by  force.  This  was  in  1716.  He 
first  went  to  an  island  in  the  Mississippi,  op- 
posite the  Tunicas  and  eighteen  leagues  below 
Natchez.  Pretending  to  wish  to  trade  with 
them,  he  captured  the  "  Great  Sun"  and  his 
two  brothers,  the  "  Stung  Serpent  "  and  "  The 
Little  Sun."  By  his  treaty  with  them  they 
agreed  to  build  a  substantial  fort  at  Natchez. 
While  Iberville,  Bienville,  Tonti  and  others 
had  visited  this  place  before,  and  occasionally 
hunters  had  settled  there,  this  may  be  regarded 
as  the  first  permanent  settlement  ol  the  beau- 
tiful city  of  Natchez.  It  was  named  Fort 
Rosalie  in  honor  of  the  Countess  Pontchar- 
train.  Thus  Bienville  ended  the  war  without 
bloodshed,  founded  Natchez,  and  defended  the 
citadel  of  his  own  heart. 

This  was  not  the  first  time  during  Bienville's 
life  on  the  seashore  that  Cupid  had  sent  his 
hurtling  arrows  above  his  head.  The  first  en- 
counter, however,  was  not  of  such  a  personal 
nature. 

32 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

In  1705,  when  Louis  the  XIV  sent  over  the 
twenty  girls,  they  were  chaperoned  by  a 
widow,  charming  and  irresistible,  as  widows 
always  have  been  and  always  wTill  be.  Major 
Boisbriant,  Bienville's  cousin,  lost  his  heart  to 
her,  and  his  was  not  a  case  of  unrequited  love. 
All  went  smoothly  until  Bienville's  strong  op- 
position stemmed  the  current.  Major  Bois- 
briant yielded,  but  the  lady,  with  woman's  in- 
domitable will,  remained  firm  and  indignant. 
La  Salle  and  the  Curate  de  la  Vente  had  given 
Bienville  much  trouble  by  their  intrigues  and 
slanderous  reports  of  him  at  court,  and  now 
the  aggrieved  widow  added  her  words  of  in- 
dignant protest.  In  a  letter  to  the  prime  min- 
ister she  writes  of  Bienville's  tyranny  in  every 
department,  and  especially  her  own  wrongs. 
She  annihilates  him  with  this  closing  sentence  : 
"It  is  therefore  evident  that  he  has  not  the 
necessary  qualifications  to  be  governor  of  this 
colony."  He  was,  however,  retained  as  gov- 
ernor, and  the  marriage  did  not  take  place. 
Still,  we  see  the  early  independence  of  the 
women  of  this  country,  and  that  they  soon  be- 
came not  only  a  social  and  domestic,  but  also 
political  element. 

When    the    French    girls    came    over    they 
found  formidable  rivals  in  those  first  women  of 

33 


Romance  and   Realism 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

the  South  who  dwelt  by  the  sea.  The  French 
and  Canadians  sought  them  for  wives,  and 
who  can  wonder  when  we  read  Claiborne's 
description  of  them  :  "  The  dusky  maidens  of 
Mississippi,  with  their  flashing  eyes  and  volup- 
tuous forms,  their  delicate  hands  and  feet,  and 
their  raven  hair  that  brushed  the  dewdrops  as 
they  walked,  modestly  drooping  their  glances 
at  the  approach  of  a  warrior.  The  Choctaw 
language  was  beautiful,  and  some  of  the 
women  sang  well,  their  voices  low  and  sweet, 
corresponding  with  their  gentle  manners  and 
modest  deportment.  But  they  were  gay,  so- 
cial, fascinating,  and  their  laugh  like  the  ripple 
of  a  brook  over  its  pebbly  bed." 

After  reading  this  description  who  can  won- 
der that  if  the  conqueror  took  from  the  Indian 
girl  her  lands  and  her  wild,  sweet  freedom,  he 
often  gave  her  in  return  for  it  his  true,  chival- 
ric  love  ? 

It  is  a  misfortune  of  life  that  the  step  of 
realism  often  touches  so  close  upon  the  heel 
of  romance,  that  it  crushes  out  the  flowers  of 
imagination.  As  we  see  the  Indian  of  the 
present  day,  listless,  dull,  swarthy  and  slouchy, 
sitting  in  the  French  market,  the  thought  in- 
voluntarily presents  itself,  did  poetry  throw 
over  those  early  days  the  halo  of  romance,  or 

35 


Romance  and   Realism 

has  civilization  only  given  to  the  poor  In- 
dian its  physical  enervation  without  supply- 
ing the  mental  qualities  to  withstand  its  temp- 
tations ? 

36 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 


CHAPTER   III. 

In  1717,  Bienville  was  reappointed  governor, 
and  the  seat  of  government  was  moved  from 
Mobile  and  Dauphine  Island  to  Biloxi.  As 
the  old  fort  had  been  burned  at  what  is  now 
called  Ocean  Springs,  New  Biloxi  was  built 
upon  the  point  of  land  to  the  west  of  the  bay 
immediately  fronting  Ship  Island. 

I  n  March,  1718,  Bienville  selected  the  present 
site  of  New  Orleans  between  what  are  now 
Canal  and  Esplanade  streets,  and  set  fifty  men 
to  clearing  away  the  trees.  Owing  to  the 
differences  of  Bienville  and  Hubert,  the  seat 
of  government  was  not  transferred  to  New 
Orleans  until  1722,  after  which  this  city  grad- 
ually became  the  Paris  of  the  South.  The 
French  were  devoted  to  the  mother  country, 
and  felt  that  it  was  infamous  when,  in  1763, 
Louis  XV  induced  his  cousin,  Charles  III,  of 
Spain  to  take  Louisiana  off  his  hands.  So  in- 
dignant were  the  French  against  Spanish  do- 
minion that  in  1768  they  rebelled  against  it, 
but  they  were  defeated  and  their  leaders  exe- 
cuted. This  is  one  of  the  darkest  tragedies 
of  Louisiana  history. 

37 


Romance  and  Realism 

Afterward,  however,  the  Spanish  rule  was 
very  lenient  and  just.  Governor  Gayoso  and 
Governor  Galvez  were  especially  beloved,  and 
Governor  Miro  was  so  popular  that  when  Ten- 
nessee was  settled,  the  central  portion  of  the 
state  was  named  for  him.  In  the  treaty  of 
peace  between  Great  Britain,  Spain  and  France, 
the  Spaniards  acquired  New  Orleans,  but  the 
greater  part  of  the  Mississippi  seaboard  was 
ceded  to  Great  Britain  and  prospered  under 
British  rule.  Governor  Galvez,  however,  after- 
ward recaptured  it. 

Spain  was  not  unwilling  when  she  ceded 
her  Louisiana  territory  to  France  by  the  treaty 
of  Ildefonso  in  1800.  She  feared  for  her 
Mexican  possessions,  and  thought  France 
would  be  a  rampart  between  her  and  the 
United  States. 

Although  New  Orleans  was  so  long  under 
the  dominion  of  the  Spaniards,  the  Spanish 
language  was  spoken  officially  only,  the  French 
being  retained  for  social  and  family  circles. 
Although  loyal  citizens  of  this  country,  the 
French  have  never  given  up  their  language 
as  Spaniards,  Germans  or  Italians  have  done 
under  like  circumstances. 

Much  information  is  gained  on  these  sub- 
38 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

jects  from  Mr.  Alcee  Fortier,  professor  of 
French  language  and  literature  in  Tulane  Uni- 
versity, New  Orleans.  He  tells  us  that  so 
generally  was  the  French  language  spoken  in 
Louisiana  that  in  the  legislature  of  the  state, 
there  was  a  regular  interpreter  appointed  for 
each  house  at  a  salary  of  $2,000 ;  it  was  his 
duty  to  translate,  if  required,  the  speeches  and 
motions  of  the  members.  It  was,  it  seems, 
very  amusing  to  see  a  Creole  representative 
abusing  an  American  colleague,  who  remained 
perfectly  unconcerned  until  the  interpreter 
translated  the  hostile  address ;  then  the  party 
attacked  would  suddenly  rise  and  reply  in 
vehement  terms,  which  had  also  to  be  trans- 
lated before  the  opposing  member  could  reply. 

The  court  rooms  were  provided  with  French, 
English  and  Spanish  interpreters,  and  the 
juries  divided  as  evenly  as  possible  between 
English  and  French.  When  the  case  was 
being  presented  in  English,  the  French  were 
excused,  and  when  it  was  argued  in  French, 
the  English  were  excused.  Together  they 
retired  to  the  jury  room,  and  by  some  mar- 
velous process  generally  arrived  at  a  correct 
verdict. 

The  Creoles  of  Louisiana  are  the  white  de- 
scendants of  the  French  and  Spanish  colonists, 

39 


Romance  and  Realism 

and  have  in  their  veins  some  of  the  blue  blood 
of  the  noblest  families  of  France  and  Spain. 
The  depreciatory  light  in  which  Mr.  George 
W.  Cable  has  represented  them  in  his  works 
has  aroused  their  just  indignation.  Dr.  W. 
H.  Holcomb  says  of  them:  "These  men 
were  the  root  stock  or  foundation  head  of  the 
Creole  civilization,  a  social  state  distinguished 
for  the  courage  and  honorable  bearing  of  its 
rnen,  the  beauty  and  refinement  of  its  women, 
and  the  highly  polished  manners  of  both  sexes." 

The  pretty  quadroon  girls  who  wait  in  the 
hotels  on  the  southern  seacoast  claim  with 
perfect  equanimity  that  they  are  Creoles.  This 
is  somewhat  bewildering  to  strangers  and  a 
very  unjust  reflection  of  color  on  the  subject. 
Possibly  no  word  in  the  English  language  has 
been  more  abused  than  the  word  Creole. 

The  names  of  many  places  in  this  region 
are  not  only  historic,  but  have  a  story  within 
a  story.  The  French  name  Baton  Rouge  not 
only  indicates  French  possession,  but  it  tells 
an  Indian  story.  The  Houmas,  after  they  had 
won  a  victory  over  the  Tunicas,  planted  upon 
that  spot  a  "  baton  rouge,"  or  "  red  stick,"  to 
signify  that  the  Tunicas  were  never  to  cross  it 
on  the  war-path. 

Louisiana  was  named  for  the  French  king, 
40 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

and  the  two  large  lakes  near  New  Orleans  for 
two  prime  ministers — Pontchartrain  and  Maure- 
pas.  Pontchartrain,  a  man  of  great  talent  and 
sterling  integrity,  was  chancellor  of  France  un- 
der Louis  XIV.  Maurepas,  minister  of  Louis 
XV,  was  a  man  of  great  ability,  but  dissolute 
habits.  Pearl  river  was  so  called  because  there 
the  Indians  found  the  shells  with  which  they 
scraped  out  their  canoes  after  burning  them,  and 
within  these  shells  they  often  found  beautiful 
pearls.  Yazoo  river  means  the  "  river  of  death," 
and  Amite  river  was  so  named  because  there 
Iberville  found  the  Indians  most  friendly. 

One  of  the  first  names  given  by  the  Span- 
iards to  the  Mississippi  river  was  "  The  River 
of  the  Holy  Ghost;"  other  Spanish  names 
were  Rio  Grande,  Rio  Esconnido ;  La  Salle 
first  called  it  St.  Louis,  and  afterward  Colbert; 
La  Palisade  was  one  of  the  French  names, 
from  the  number  of  snags  and  drift-wood  in 
the  passes  at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  Mal- 
bou-chia  was  the  name  given  to  it  by  the  In- 
dians of  the  East,  but  the  Indians  of  the  West 
called  it  Me-ac-cha-sippi,  Me-she-o-be,  Mec-a- 
she-ba,  and  Meche  Sepe,  all  signifying  the 
Father  of  Waters. 

Justin  Winsor  tells  us  that  the  original  spell- 
ing of  Mississippi,  the  nearest  approach  to 

41 


Romance  and  Realism 

the  Algonquin  word,  is  Meche  Sebe,  a  form 
still  commonly  used  by  the  Louisiana  Creoles. 
Tonty  suggested  Miche  Sepe ;  Father  Laval, 
Michisepe,  which  by  Father  Labatt  was  soft- 
ened into  Misisipi.  Marquette  added  the  first 
s  in  Missisipi,  and  some  other  explorer  added 
a  second  s  in  Mississipi,  as  it  is  spelled  in 
France  to-day.  No  one  knows  who  added  a 
second  p  in  Mississippi,  for  it  was  generally 
spelled  with  one  p  when  the  United  States 
bought  Louisiana. 

Free  navigation  of  the  Mississippi,  a  much- 
vexed  question,  was  granted  in  1795,  and  the 
first  steamboat  came  down  the  river  in  181 1. 

There  is  not,  perhaps,  in  the  history  of  Mis- 
sissippi, a  name  that  graces  its  pages  more 
than  that  of  Claiborne.  It  has  always  been 
an  honored  one.  Governor  Claiborne  had 
been  governor  of  the  Mississippi  Territory,  but 
when  Orleans  Territory  was  formed  in  1804,  he 
was  appointed  its  governor,  and  appointed  first 
state  governor  of  Louisiana  in  1812.  In  1810, 
the  Mississippi  seaboard  was  divided  into  the 
parishes  of  Biloxi  and  Pascagoula,  and  the  year 
afterward  Governor  Claiborne  sent  Dr.  Flood 
to  establish  these  parishes.  A  good  idea  of 
the  sea-shore  at  that  time  may  be  gathered 

42 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

from    his    communication    to    Governor    Clai- 
borne  : 

"  In  compliance  with  your  instructions,  I 
embarked  in  the  Alligator  on  the  5th,  and 
proceeded  to  Mr.  Simon  Favre's,  on  the  east- 
ern bank  of  Pearl  river.  He  is  a  planter, 
owns  a  large  stock,  and  is  an  educated  and 
very  agreeable  gentleman.  He  accepted  the 
commission  with  pleasure,  and  will  make  an 
energetic  officer,  and  seems  greatly  to  value 
the  respect  you  have  for  him.  I  hoisted  the 
flag  of  the  United  States  at  Bay  St.  Louis  on 
the  8th,  and  handed  the  commission  to  Phillip 
Saucier,  a  venerable  gentleman  of  prepossess- 
ing manners  and  with  a  patriarchal  appear- 
ance. Next  day,  displayed  the  flag  at  the 
Pass,  and  proceeded  to  the  Bay  of  Biloxi, 
where  I  found  Mr.  Ladnier  and  gave  him  the 
commission.  He  is  a  man  of  excellent  sense, 
but  can  neither  read  nor  write,  nor  can  any  in- 
habitant of  the  Bay  of  Biloxi  that  I  can  hear 
of.  They  are  all  along  this  beautiful  coast  a 
primitive  people  of  mixed  origin,  retaining  the 
gayety  and  politeness  of  the  French  blended 
with  the  abstemiousness  and  indolence  of  the 
Indian.  They  plant  a  little  rice  and  a  few 
roots  and  vegetables,  but  depend  for  subsist- 
ence chiefly  on  game  and  fish.  I  left  with  all 

43 


Romance  and  Realism 

these  appointees  copies  of  the  laws,  ordi- 
nances, etc.,  but  few  laws  will  be  wanted  here. 
The  people  are  universally  honest.  There  are 
no  crimes.  The  father  of  the  family  or  the 
oldest  inhabitant  settles  all  disputes.  The 
population  of  Pascagoula  parish  is  about  350  ; 
of  the  parish  of  Biloxi,  420,  chiefly  of  French 
and  Creoles.  A  more  inoffensive  and  inno- 
cent people  may  not  be  found.  They  seem  to 
desire  only  the  simple  necessities  of  life  and 
to  be  let  alone  in  their  tranquillity." 

But  the  Mississippi  seaboard  has  caught  the 
spirit  of  the  times,  and  feels  surging  through 
its  every  vein  the  nervous  life  and  progress 
of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  Not  so,  however, 
with  all  the  people  of  the  coast,  for  there  is 
still  a  people  in  Louisiana  charming  in  primi- 
tive simplicity.  As  Charles  Dudley  Warner 
tells  us,  the  peculiarity  of  this  community  is 
in  its  freedom  from  all  the  hurry  and  worry 
and  information  of  modern  life.  For  them  the 
customs  and  knowledge  of  1755  are  quite  suf- 
ficient, and  while  some  of  them  are  cultured 
men  and  women,  the  majority  can  neither  read 
nor  write,  considering  that  this  especial  phase 
of  the  worry  and  information  of  modern  life  is 
unnecessary. 

In  1605,  a  small  French  settlement  was 
44 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

made  in  Nova  Scotia — the  word  Acadian  is 
derived  from  the  word  Aquoddie,  an  Indian 
term  for  a  fish  called  the  pollock.  These 
people  were  of  exquisite  simplicity  of  charac- 
ter and  habits. 

''Thus  dwelt  together  in  love  these  simple  Acadian 
farmers, — 

Dwelt  in  the  love  of  God  and  man.  Alike  were  they 
free  from 

Fear,  that  reigns  with  the  tyrant,  and  envy,  the  vice  of 
republics. 

Neither  locks  had  they  to  their  doors,  nor  bars  to  their 
windows ; 

But  their  dwellings  were  open  as  day  and  the  hearts  of 
their  owners ; 

There  the  richest  was  poor  and  the  poorest  lived  in  abun- 
dance." 

They  were  most  loyal  in  their  devotion  to 
France,  but  when  they  passed  under  the  reign 
of  the  English  this  loyalty  was  feared,  espe- 
cially as  their  numbers  increased  alarmingly. 
Finally  they  were  expelled  by  the  English 
from  their  beautiful  homes,  and,  penniless  and 
heart-broken,  drifted  along  the  Atlantic  shore. 
Many  places  gave  them  homes,  but  the  dearest 
spot  discovered  by  them  was  the  beautiful 
country  near  New  Orleans  watered  by  the 
Teche.  There  they  were  welcomed  with  gen- 

45 


Romance  and  Realism 

erous  hospitality ;  there  they  found  their  own 
language,  a  genial  climate,  and  rich  soil. 

Longfellow  has  immortalized  the  sufferings 
of  the  Acadians  in  his  beautiful  poem  of  Evan- 
geline — Evangeline,  the  daughter  of  Benedict, 
and  Gabriel  Lajeunesse,  the  son  of  Basil  the 
blacksmith.  Separated  from  her  love  in  that 
dreadful  eviction  from  their  home,  for  years 
she  vainly  sought  him ;  vainly  sought  him  in 
the  fair  Louisiana  country  : 

"  '  Sunshine  of  Saint  Eulalie'  was  she  called;  for  that  was 

the  sunshine, 
Which,  as  the  farmers   believed,  would  load  their  orchard 

with  apples. 

He  was  a  valiant  youth,   and  his  face,    like  the  face  of 

the  morning, 
Gladdened  the  earth  with  its  light,  and  ripened  thought 

into  action. 

Far  asunder  on  separate  coasts  the  Acadians  landed. 
Scattered  were  they,  like  flakes  of  snow,  when  the  wind 

from  the  north-east 
Strikes  aslant  through  the  fogs  that  darken  the  banks  of 

Newfoundland. 
Friendless,  homeless,  hopeless,  they  wandered  from  city 

to  city. 

Sometimes  she  lingered  in  towns,  till,  urged  by  the  fever 
within  her, 

46 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

Urged  by  a  restless  longing,  the  hunger  and  thirst  of  the 
spirit, 

She  would  commence  again  her  endless  search  and  en- 
deavor ; 

Sometimes  in  churchyard  strayed,  and  gazed  on  the 
crosses  and  tombstones, 

Sat  by  some  nameless  grave,  and  thought  that  perhaps  in 
its  bosom, 

He  was  already  at  rest,  and  she  longed  to  slumber  beside 
him. 

Thus  did  that  poor  soul  wander  in  want  and  cheerless  dis- 
comfort 

Bleeding,  barefooted  over  the  shards  and  thorns  of  ex- 
istence. 

But  Evangeline's  heart  was  sustained  by  a  vision,  that 
faintly 

Floated  before  her  eyes,  and  beckoned  her  on  through  the 
moonlight. 

It  was  the  thought  of  her  brain  that  assumed  the  shape  of 
a  phantom 

Through  those  shadowy  aisles  had  Gabriel  wandered  be- 
fore her, 

And  every  stroke  of  the  oar  now  brought  him  nearer  and 
nearer. 

Filled  was  her  heart  with  love,  and  the  dawn  of  an  open- 
ing heaven 

Lighted  her  soul  in  sleep  with  the  glory  of  regions  ce- 
lestial. 

Nor  that  day,  nor  the  next,  nor  yet  the  day  succeeding, 
Found  they  trace  of  his  course,  in  lake  or  forest  or  river, 
Nor,  after  many  days  had  they  found  him. 

47 


Romance  and  Realism 

Gabriel  was  not  forgotten.  Within  her  heart  was  his 
image, 

Clothed  in  the  beauty  of  love  and  youth,  as  last  she  be- 
held him, 

Only  more  beautiful  made  by  his  deathlike  silence  and 
absence. 

Into  her  thoughts  of  him  time  entered  not,  for  it  was  not. 

Over  him  years  had  no  power ;  for  he  was  not  changed 
but  transfigured; 

He  had  become  to  her  heart  as  one  who  is  dead,  and  not 
absent ; 

Patience  and  abnegation  of  self,  and  devotion  to  others, 

This  was  the  lesson  a  life  of  trial  and  sorrow  had  taught 
her. 

So  was  her  love  diffused,  but,  like  to  some  odorous  spices, 

Suffered  no  waste  nor  loss  though  filling  the  air  with  aroma. 

Other  hope  had  she  none,  nor  wish  in  life,  but  to 

Meekly  follow  with  reverent  steps  the  sacred  feet  of  her 
Savior. 

Thus  many  years  she  lived  as  a  sister  of  mercy;  fre- 
quenting 

Lonely  and  wretched  roofs  in  the  crowded  lanes  of  the 
city, 

Where  distress  and  want  concealed  themselves  from  the 
sunlight 

Where  disease  and  sorrow  in  garrets  languished  neglected. 

All  was  ended  now,  the  hope  and  the  fear  and  the  sorrow, 
All  the  aching  of  heart,  the  restless,  unsatisfied  longing, 
All  the  dull,  deep,  pain,  and  constant  anguish  of  patience ! 
And  as  she  pressed  once   more  the  lifeless  head  to  her 

bosom, 
Meekly  she  bowed  her  own,  and  murmured,  '  Father,  I 

thank  Thee.'" 

48 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

A  charming  little  book,  (iln  Acadia,"  by 
Margaret  Avery  Johnston  (Mrs.  William  Pres- 
ton Johnston),  gives  a  complete  picture  of  the 
Acadians. 

In  striking  contrast  to  them  were  the  Bara- 
tarians  who  lived  on  the  southern  coast  of 
Louisiana.  The  story  of  one  is  like  a  still  fair 
landscape  with  softly  floating  clouds  above  it ; 
that  of  the  other  like  the  rushing,  seething 
waters  of  Niagara,  carrying  every  thing  before 
its'  strong  current ;  one  wanted  little  here  be- 
low, the  other  reached  out  its  grasping  hands 
for  all  the  luxuries  of  the  earth  ;  the  romance 
of  one  was  instinct  with  the  gentlest  passions 
that  could  stir  the  human  heart,  the  romance 
of  the  other  was  a  dare-devil  recklessness  and 
thrilling  adventures — for  the  Baratarians  were 
the  followers  of  the  Lafitte  brothers,  the  bold 
buccaneers  and  terrors  of  the  sea. 

Barataria  really  included  all  the  gulf  coast 
between  the  Mississippi  river  and  Bayou 
LaFourche,  but  the  home  of  the  Lafittes  was 
on  the  beautiful  island  of  Grand  Terre  on 
Barataria  Bay.  Miss  Grace  King  gives  us  the 
possible  derivation  of  the  word  :  It  will  be  re- 
membered that  Barataria  was  the  name  of  the 
island  presented  by  the  frolicsome  duchess  to 
Sancho  Panza  for  his  sins  as  he  learned  to 

49 


Romance  and  Realism 

remember  it.  How  or  when  the  name  came  to 
Louisiana  is  still  to  be  discovered,  whether  di- 
rectly from  Don  Quixote  or  from  the  source 
which  supplied  Le  Sage  with  it ;  the  etymology 
of  the  word  Baratean  meaning  Barato,  cheap 
things. 

When  Lafitte  was  outlawed  and  a  reward  of- 
fered for  his  capture,  under  an  assumed  name 
he  accidentally  met  Madame  Claiborne,  and  so 
charmed  was  she  with  the  fascinating  stranger, 
that  when  she  returned  to  the  Governor  she 
was  most  enthusiastic. 

Grand  Terre  is  now  deserted  except,  as  Laf- 
cadio  Hearn  beautifully  describes  it,  by  "a 
whirling  flower-drift  of  sleepy  butterflies." 

Cable  tells  us  that  in  1795  New  Orleans  was 
nothing  but  a  market  town.  The  Cathedral, 
the  Convent  of  the  Ursulines,  five  or  six  cafes, 
and  about  a  hundred  houses  were  all  of  it. 
Only  two  dry-goods  stores — pins,  $20.00  a 
paper,  and  poor  people  had  to  use  thorns 
for  pins.  A  needle  cost  50  cents,  stock- 
ings $5.00  a  pair,  postage  on  a  letter  50  cents. 
The  fashions  and  etiquette  allowed  only  silks 
and  velvets  for  visits  of  ceremony,  and  though 
you  smothered  you  obeyed  these  tyrannical 
laws! 

Many  amusing  stories  are  told  of  the  great 

50 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

formality  of  those  early  days,  but  at  the  same 
time  there  was  often  blended  with  it  a  humor- 
ous brusqueness  and  frontier  independence. 
Claiborne  gives  us  a  story  of  camp-life  :  In 
1798  the  first  United  States  troops  that  came 
down  the  Mississippi  were  quartered  at  Fort 
Adams.  Gen.  Wilkinson,  Col.  Hamtramck, 
Maj.  Butler,  Capt.  Green  and  other  officers 
were  merry  over  their  punch  one  night,  and  the 
general  by  some  accident  got  his  queue  singed 
off.  Next  day  he  issued  an  order  forbidding 
any  officer  to  appear  with  a  queue.  Major 
Butler  refused  to  obey,  and  was  put  under  ar- 
rest. Soon  after  he  was  very  sick,  and  when 
he  knew  he  could  not  live  he  made  his  will,  and 
gave  instructions  for  his  burial,  which  he  knew 
would  be  attended  by  the  whole  command. 

"  Bore  a  hole,"  said  he,  "through  the  bottom 
of  my  coffin  right  under  my  head,  and  let  my 
queue  come  through  it,  that  the  d — d  old  ras- 
cal may  see  that  even  when  dead  I  refuse  to 
obey  his  order."  These  directions  were  liter- 
ally complied  with. 

That  early  period  was  not  characterized  by 
the  freedom  of  action  and  speech  which  is  now 
enjoyed  by  our  Republic.  When  the  strug- 
gling colonists  demanded  of  Cadillac  that  all 
nations  should  be  allowed  to  trade  freely  with 

51 


Romance  and  Realism 

them,  and  that  when  they  were  dissatisfied 
they  could  move  out  of  the  province,  he  was 
most  indignant.  He  wrote  an  angry  letter  to 
the  Prime  Minister  saying :  "  Freedom  of 
trade  and  freedom  of  action  !  A  pretty  thing  ! 
What  would  become  of  Crozat's  privileges?" 
Fortunately,  however,  all  the  governors  of  that 
time  were  not  Cadillacs. 

Having  given  a  chapter  to  the  Indians,  we 
now  reach  a  class  of  people  much  nearer  to  us, 
and  that  will  most  probably  remain  in  Dixie  so 
long  as  there  is  a  cotton  row  to  be  followed  by 
a  negro,  a  plow  and  a  mule.  The  very  men- 
tion of  the  South  brings  visions  of  white  cotton 
fields  and  looming  above  them  the  woolly 
heads  and  shiny  teeth  of  the  darkey.  The 
responsibilities  of  life  weigh  more  heavily  upon 
him  now,  and  his  laughter  is  not  so  frequent  as 
it  used  to  be  ;  but  his  sunny  disposition  is  a  her- 
itage of  the  tropics,  and  he  will  always  be  happy 
and  improvident. 

Before  entering  upon  this  subject  a  few  words 
are  due  to  King  Cotton,  the  staple  of  the 
South.  Immediately  upon  the  seacoast  the  at- 
mosphere is  rather  too  damp  for  its  production, 
but  a  few  miles  inland  and  the  Mississippi  val- 
ley produces  the  finest  grade  of  cotton,  mak- 
ing New  Orleans  one  of  the  largest  cotton-ship- 

52 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

ping  ports  of  the  world.  A  variety  of  cotton 
seed  is  used  in  Mississippi,  but  for  many -years 
one  of  the  most  popular  was  the  Mexican  seed. 
This  was  introduced  into  the  United  States  by 
a  diplomatic  ruse,  it  is  said.  The  story  is  told 
that  Gen.  Wilkinson  sent  Walter  Burling  o^ 
Natchez  on  a  diplomatic  mission  to  Mexico  in 
1806.  He  dined  with  the  viceroy  and  re- 
quested some  Mexican  seed,  but  as  this  was 
against  the  Mexican  law.  the  viceroy  declined. 
He  told  Mr.  Burling  laughingly  over  his  wine, 
however,  that  he  could  take  as  many  Mexican 
dolls  as  he  wished,  and  it  was  tacitly  under- 
stood that  these  dolls  should  be  stuffed  with 
cotton  seed. 

In  1708  Bienville  wrote  to  the  government 
to  obtain  authority  to  exchange  Indians  for  ne- 
groes. "We  shall  give,"  said  he,  "three  In- 
dians for  two  negroes.  The  Indians,  when  in 
the  islands,  will  not  be  able  to  run  away,  the 
country  being  unknown  to  them,  and  the  ne- 
groes would  not  dare  to  become  fugitives  in 
Lousiana  because  the  Indians  would  kill  them." 
This  does  not  seem  to  have  met  with  any  fa- 
vorable consideration,  and  the  proposition  re- 
flects no  credit  on  a  man  of  Bienville's  fine 
character  The  entire  ring  of  it  makes  an 
unpleasant  impression. 

When  Crozat  gave  up  his  lease  in  1717,  the 
53 


Romance  and  Realism 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

West  India  Company  leased  it  for  twenty-five 
years,  and  in  the  charter  bound  itself  to  introduce 
3,000  Africans.  Thus  early  in  the  history  of  New 
England,  Virginia  and  Louisiana  the  blight 
of  slavery  was  imprinted  on  the  colonies.  In 
July,  1720,  the  first  cargo  of  negroes  came. 

No  humanitarian  could  advocate  slavery,  and 
there  was  doubtless  pathetic  physical  and  men- 
tal suffering  on  those  terrible  slave  ships.  We 
should  remember,  however,  that  these  simple, 
ignorant  blacks  were  taken  from  their  homes 
of  absolute  darkness  and  superstition,  and 
that  many  "  Mars  Chans"  and  "  Meh  Ladies  " 
were  waiting  on  these  southern  shores  to  hold 
them  in  such  gentle  bonds  and  teach  them 
such  loving  service,  that  they  forgot  that  they 
were  slaves. 

Slavery  has  existed  in  some  forms  in  all 
ages ;  but  nowhere  upon  the  pages  of  history 
do  we  find  any  thing  like  the  tender,  inexplic- 
able and  devoted  bond  between  the  Southern 
master  and  his  slave. 

In  that  sweet  long  ago  what  Southern  child 
could  forget  the  delight  of  a  visit  to  "  de  quar- 
ters "  —the  rows  of  nicely  whitewashed  negro 
cabins  near  the  white  house.  There  our  de- 
voted hosts  bustled  around  with  noisy  hospi- 
tality, drawing  down  from  the  loft  some  of  their 

55 


Romance  and  Realism 

treasures  of  hickory  nuts,  walnuts,  and  other 
goodies ;  roasting  eggs  for  us  in  the  ashes, 
giving  to  us  risen  pone  corn-bread  and  fresh 
vegetables — for  every  cabin  was  provided  with 
its  little  patch  of  ground  at  the  back.  And 
the  little  piccaninnies  rolled  over  each  other  on 
the  floor,  like  black  kittens,  a  sable  heap  of 
delight 

"Oh,  de  cabin  at  de  quarters,  in  de  ole  plantation  days, 
Wid  de  garden   patch  behine  it  an'  de  godevine  by 

de  do', 
An'  de  do'yard  sot  wid  roses,  whar  de  chillun  runs  an 

plays, 

An'  de  streak  o'  sunshine,   yaller-like,   er  slantin'  on 
de  flo' !  " 

As  for  mammy,  such  a  thing  as  rebellion 
against  her  was  almost  undreampt  of,  for  she 
was  high  in  authority.  The  lessons  that  she 
taught  us  in  good  manners  were  correct  in  the 
extreme,  for  had  she  not  been  "  'mongst  de 
white  folks  long  'nuff  ter  know?"  Some  of 
the  other  lessons  that  she  taught  sank  deep  in 
childish  memory. 

You  must  always  burn  and  not  throw 
away  your  hair,  because  the  birds  will  pick 
it  up  to  make  their  nests,  and  that  will 
make  you  crazy.  If  a  child  teething  looks  at 
himself  in  the  mirror  his  teething  will  be  pain- 

56 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

ful.  If  you  have  a  sore  on  the  tip  of  your 
tongue  it  is  a  sign  that  you  have  lied.  If  you 
forget  what  you  were  going  to  say,  it  is  a  sign 
that  you  were  going  to  lie.  If  you  sweep  the 
feet  of  a  child  with  a  broom,  it  will  make  him 
walk  early.  To  cure  a  wart  take  a  green  pea, 
rub  it  on  the  wart,  then  take  the  pea  and  wrap 
it  in  a  piece  of  paper  and  throw  it  away  ;  the 
person  who  will  pick  it  up  will  get  the  wart. 
You  must  watch  for  a  full  moon  if  you  want  to 
make  soap.  In  those  days,  if  the  smiling  but 
determined  mothers  had  not  asserted  their  au- 
thority and  trimmed  their  babies'  finger  nails, 
they  would  have  grown  out  like  little  birds' 
talons  and  scratched  their  tender  faces.  The 
nurses  always  insisted  that  to  trim  the  nails 
would  make  the  child  steal. 

The  greatest  terror  was  felt  of  the  will-o'- 
the-wisp.  We  were  told  that  so  surely  as  we 
should  go  out  of  the  yard  after  dark,  without  a 
grown  person,  this  unknown  fiendish  spirit 
would  catch  us  and  drag  us  over  bogs  and 
through  bushes,  exclaiming  all  the  time,  "  I 
have  you  !  I  have  you  !  " 

All  such  stories  had  a  perfect  fascination  for 
the  children,  and  the  more  startling  their  char- 
acter, told  by  these  black  mammies  in  the  flick- 
ering firelight  or  by  the  ghostly  moonlight,  the 

57 


Romance  and  Realism 

greater  was  the  shuddering  delight  which  they 
produced. 

Southerners  are  not  more  superstitious  than 
other  people,  and  they  show  their  wonderful 
strength  of  character  in  throwing  off  these 
numberless  superstitions  that  they  absorbed 
almost  with  their  first  breath  of  intelligence 
from  these  devoted  attendants. 

Mr.  Fortier  mentions  all  of  these  supersti- 
tions and  many  more  in  his  "  Louisiana  Stud- 
ies," and  his  description  of  New  Year's  Day, 
on  the  southern  coast,  gives  such  a  vivid  and 
charming  scene  of  plantation  life  in  Louisiana, 
that  it  is  repeated  in  full : 

"At  daylight,  on  the  first  of  January,  the 
rejoicing  began  on  the  plantation ;  every  thing 
was  in  an  uproar,  and  all  the  negroes,  old  and 
young,  were  running  about,  shaking  hands 
and  exchanging  wishes  for  the  new  year. 
The  servants  employed  at  the  house  came  to 
awaken  the  master  and  mistress  and  the  chil- 
dren. The  nurses  came  to  our  beds  to  present 
their  souhaits.  To  the  boys  it  was  always, 
1  Mo  souhaite  ke  vou  bon  ga^on,  fe  plein 
1'argent  e  ke  vou  bienhereux;'  to  the  girls, 
'  Mo  souhaite  ke  vou  bon  fie,  ke  vou  gagnin 
ein  mari  riche  e  plein  piti. 

"Even  the  very  old  and  infirm,  who  had  not 

58 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

left  the  hospital  for  months,  came  to  the  house 
with  the  rest  of  r atelier  for  their  gifts.  These 
they  were  sure  to  get,  each  person  receiving 
a  piece  of  an  ox  killed  expressly  for  them, 
several  pounds  of  flour,  and  a  new  tin  pan  and 
spoon.  The  men  received,  besides,  a  new 
jean  or  cottonade  suit  of  clothes,  and  the  wo- 
men a  dress  and  a  most  gaudy  handkerchief, 
or  tignon,  the  redder  the  better.  Each  woman 
that  had  had  a  child  during  the  year  received 
two  dresses  instead  of  one.  After  the  souhaits 
were  presented  to  the  masters,  and  the  gifts 
were  made,  the  dancing  and  singing  began. 
The  scene  was  indeed  striking,  interesting  and 
weird.  Two  or  three  hundred  men  and  women 
were  there  in  front  of  the  house,  wild  with 
joy  and  most  boisterous,  although  always  re- 
spectful 

"Their  musical  instruments  were,  first,  a 
barrel  with  one  end  covered  with  an  ox-hide— 
this  was  the  drum ;  then  two  sticks  and  the 
jawbone  of  a  mule,  with  the  teeth  still  on  it — 
this  was  the  violin.  The  principal  musician 
bestrode  the  barrel  and  began  to  beat  on  the 
hide,  singing  as  loud  as  he  could.  He  beat 
with  his  hands,  with  his  feet,  and  sometimes, 
when  quite  carried  away  by  his  enthusiasm, 
with  his  head  also.  The  second  musician 

59 


Romance  and  Realism 

took  the  sticks  and  beat  on  the  wood  of  the 
barrel,  while  the  third  made  a  dreadful  music 
by  rattling  the  teeth  of  the  jawbone  with  a 
stick.  Five  or  six  men  stood  around  the 
musicians  and  sang  without  stopping.  All 
this  produced  a  most  strange  and  savage 
music,  but,  withal,  not  disagreeable,  as  the 
negroes  have  a  very  good  ear  for  music,  and 
keep  a  pleasant  rhythm  in  their  songs.  These 
dancing  songs  generally  consisted  of  one 
phrase,  repeated  for  hours  on  the  same  air. 

"In  the  dance  called  carabine,  and  which  was 
quite  graceful,  the  man  took  his  danseuse  by 
the  hand,  and  made  her  turn  around  very  rap- 
idly for  more  than  an  hour,  the  woman  waving 
a  red  handkerchief  over  her  head,  and  every 
one  singing — 

'  Madame  Gobar,  en  sortant  di  bal, 
Madame  Gobar,  tignon  li  tombe.' 

"The  other  dance,  called  pile  Chactas,  was 
not  as  graceful  as  the  carabine,  but  was  more 
strange.  The  woman  had  to  dance  almost 
without  moving  her  feet.  It  was  the  man  who 
did  all  the  work,  turning  around  her,  kneeling 
down,  making  the  most  grotesque  and  extraor- 
dinary faces,  writhing  like  a  serpent,  while  the 
woman  was  almost  immovable.  After  a  little 

60 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

while,  however,  she  began  to  get  excited,  and, 
untying  her  neckerchief,  she  waved  it  around 
gracefully,  and  finally  ended  by  wiping  off  the 
perspiration  from  the  face  of  her  danseur,  and 
also  from  the  faces  of  the  musicians  who 
played  the  barrel  and  the  jawbone,  an  act 
which  must  have  been  gratefully  received  by 
those  sweltering  individuals. 

44 The  ball,  for  such  it  was,  lasted  for  several 
hours,  and  was  a  great  amusement  to  us  chil- 
dren. It  must  have  been  less  entertaining  to 
our  parents,  but  they  never  interfered,  as  they 
considered  that,  by  a  well-established  custom, 
New  Year's  Day  was  one  of  mirth  and  pleas- 
ure for  the  child-like  slaves." 

Nothing  in  the  world  could  so  terribly 
frighten  a  negro  as  the  thought  of  being 
"hoodooed,"  and  the  real  voudouism  was 
something  to  be  feared.  It  was  a  knowledge 
of  the  subtle  vegetable  poisons  brought  from 
Africa  by  the  negroes,  and  which  always 
meant  slow  death  to  their  victims.  They 
prayed  to  the  devil,  for  they  considered  him 
God,  and  their  dances  and  religious  rites  in 
secluded  places  were  frightfully  grotesque.  A 
great  deal  of  voudouism,  however,  was  simply 
ridiculous  and  harmless  ceremonies.  Mr.  For- 
tier  tells  us  that  one  of  his  friends,  passing  a 

61 


Romance  and  Realism 

house  late  at  night,  saw  on  the  doorsteps  two 
lighted  candles  and  between  them  four  nickels 
placed  as  a  cross.  Being  determined  to  save 
the  family  from  destruction,  the  gentleman 
blew  out  the  candles,  threw  them  away,  and 
pocketed  the  nickels.  Thus  all  danger  was 
averted. 

Louisiana  negroes  pride  themselves  upon 
their  superiority  over  the  ordinary  negro,  be- 
cause many  of  them  have  straight  hair.  This 
is  due,  however,  to  the  fact  that  in  the  early 
days  of  the  colony  there  were  many  Indians 
and  negro  slaves  working  together,  and  the 
two  races  became  intermixed.  When  there 
was  a  mixture  of  white  blood  with  the  negro 
the  different  grades  were  known  as  mulatto, 
quadroons,  octaroons  and  griffes. 

In  the  terrible  insurrection  of  the  blacks 
against  the  whites  in  San  Domingo,  1791, 
a  large  number  of  San  Domingans  found  refuge 
in  Louisiana,  some  bringing  slaves.  The 
Louisianians  felt  the  greatest  anxiety  for  fear 
that  this  might  cause  an  uprising  by  their 
negroes,  but  there  was  never  any  serious 
trouble  on  their  account. 

Under  the  Black  Code  before  the  civil  war, 
masters  were  compelled  to  care  for  their  slaves 
when  disabled  by  old  age  or  sickness.  If  the 

62 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

master  failed  to  do  this,  the  slave  was  sent  to 
the  nearest  hospital,  and  the  derelict  master 
was  taxed  so  much  a  day  for  his  support ;  and 
if  he  failed  to  pay,  the  hospital  had  a  lien  on 
his  plantation  for  that  amount. 

The  principle  of  slavery,  however,  was  ac- 
knowledged to  be  wrong,  not  only  by  the 
North,  but  by  the  South.  The  trend  of  South- 
ern thought  and  legislation  was  the  liberation 
of  the  negro,  but  it  was  a  stupendous  subject, 
which  time  alone  could  have  peacefully  solved. 

In  the  revised  constitution  of  Mississippi  of 
1832,  a  remarkable  clause  prohibited  the  in- 
troduction of  slaves  as  merchandise  or  for  sale 
from  and  after  May  i,  1833.  This  was  when 
slaves  were  most  remunerative.  In  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  Confederate  States,  the  slave 
trade  was  forbidden. 

If  the  North  and  the  South  had  waited  only 
a  little  longer ;  and  had  they  not  made  the  ter- 
rible mistake  of  thinking  that  war  was  the  only 
way  of  settling  the  question,  brother  would 
never  have  been  arrayed  against  brother. 
The  heroes  in  the  blue  and  in  the  gray  would 
never  have  shed  their  life-blood,  and  the  voice 
of  lamentation  would  not  have  been  heard  all 
over  the  land. 

63 


Romance  and  Realism. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

NEW    ORLEANS. 

One  of  the  first  poetical  names  of  New  Or- 
leans was  Houma,  or  Sun.  The  Parisian  has 
transformed  this  weed-covered  marsh,  with  its 
trees  draped  in  melancholy  gray  moss,  into  a 
brilliant  garden  filled  with  flowers  and  opti- 
mistic life,  for  to  him  life  means  laughter, 
lightness  and  love. 

When  the  marshy  streets  were  impassable 
with  mud,  it  was  not  sufficient  cause  to  prevent 
joyous  reunions.  Upon  raised  planks  on  the 
banquettes  the  families  went  forth — first  a 
slave  preceding  them  with  lanterns,  next 
another  slave  bearing  the  satin  slippers  and 
other  articles  of  full  dress  that  were  to  be 
donned  in  the  dressing-room,  and  last  came 
the  family.  If  the  evening  was  too  inclement 
for  the  ball,  a  crier  went  through  the  streets 
and  announced  it  to  the  sound  of  a  drum,  and 
it  was  always  understood  it  would  take  place 
the  next  pleasant  evening. 

Later,  when  pavements  permitted  the  luxury 
of  carriages  and  when  theaters  were  built,  the 

64 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

regular  evening  outfit  for  a  fashionable  cavalier 
was :  a  stall  for  four,  white  kid  gloves  for  the 
ladies,  coffee  for  the  party,  or  perhaps  a  more 
expensive  supper  at  a  restaurant.  When  the 
Opera  House  was  opened  people  were  con- 
sidered out  of  the  bounds  of  cultivated  society 
unless  they  attended  the  theater  or  opera  sev- 
eral evenings  during  the  week,  and  at  any 
hour  of  the  day  or  evening  there  came  through 
the  windows  that  always  stood  open,  soft  re- 
frains from  the  opera — not  alone  from  the 
stately  drawing-rooms,  but  from  the  streets 
and  the  slave  quarters.  All  the  air  seemed 
vibrant  with  melody.  And  meeting  some  of 
the  family  servants  in  the  French  Market,  you 
were  greeted  with  a  quaint  curtsey,  a  happy 
smile,  and  perhaps  a  quotation  from  Shak- 
speare — household  words  in  the  families  in 
which  they  served,  and  all  spoken  in  French. 

How  vividly  these  scenes  contrast  with  the 
early  customs  of  the  Pilgrim  fathers  in  Boston  ! 
One  all  life  and  light  and  color ;  the  other 
stern,  rugged  strength,  based  upon  the  aus- 
terest  form  of  religion.  Had  the  varied  ele- 
ments that  composed  the  New  Orleans  popu- 
lation landed  in  Boston,  the  dignified  calm  of 
that  place  would  have  been  shaken  and  shocked 
to  its  inmost  center. 

65 


Romance  and  Realism 

To  the  western  Parisian,  the  picturesque, 
the  dramatic,  and  the  poetic  were  inherent 
characteristics,  but  it  was  only  at  times  that 
his  butterfly  wings  carried  him  into  an  excess 
of  frivolity.  His  heart  and  his  home  were 
open  to  the  refugees  of  the  earth,  wherever 
they  were  persecuted  and  unfortunate. 

There  were  no  blue-coated  police,  but  the 
watchmen  of  New  Orleans  were  arrayed  in 
gorgeous  uniforms,  and  sang  forth  the  hours 
of  the  night  and  the  state  of  the  weather  until 
the  rhythmic  cadence  echoed  from  street  to 
street:  "Eight  o'clock  and  fair/'  "Nine 
o'clock  and  cloudy."  In  the  winter,  a  cannon 
was  fired  at  eight  o'clock,  and  in  summer  at 
nine  o'clock,  for  all  subordinates  to  go  to  their 
homes,  and  after  that  time  all  slaves  and  strag- 
glers were  required  to  show  passes  from  their 
masters  and  employers. 

On  the  streets,  you  met  "haughty  liabitans 
fresh  from  Canada,  rude  trappers  and  hunters, 
voyageitrs  and  coureurs  de  bois ;  plain,  unpretend- 
ing Cadians  from  the  Attakapas,  arrayed  in 
their  home-made  blue  cottonades,  and  redolent 
of  the  herds  of  cattle  they  had  brought  with 
them ;  lazy  emigre,  nobles  banished  to  this 
new  world  under  lettres  de  cachet  for  interfering 
with  their  king's  petit  amours  or  taking  too 

66 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

deep  an  interest  in  politics  ;  yellow  sirens  from 
San  Domingo,  speaking  a  soft,  bastard  French, 
and  looking  so  languishingly  out  of  the  corners 
of  their  big,  melting,  black  eyes  that  it  was  no 
wonder  that  they  led  both  young  and  old 
astray,  and  caused  their  cold,  proud  sisters  of 
the  sang  pur  many  a  jealous  heart-ache  ;  staid 
and  energetic  Germans  from  the  *  German 
Coast,'  with  flaxen  hair  and  Teutonic  names, 
but  speaking  the  purest  French,  come  down  to 
the  city  for  supplies  ;  haughty  Castilian  sol- 
diers, clad  in  the  bright  uniform  of  the  Spanish 
cazadores ;  dirty  Indians  of  the  Houma  and 
Natchez  tribes,  some  free,  some  slaves  ;  negroes 
of  every  shade  and  hue  from  dirty  white  to 
deepest  black,  clad  only  in  the  braguet  and 
shapeless  woolen  shirts,  as  little  clothing  as 
the  somewhat  loose  ideas  of  the  time  and 
country  permitted." 

Not  the  least  important  of  this  varied  group 
were  the  Kaintucks,  who  floated  down  the 
river  in  their  flats  or  broad-horns,  sold  their 
merchandise,  and  received  for  it  huge  rolls  of 
money,  which  they  proceeded  at  once  to  spend 
with  convivial  generosity.  They  felt  that  there 
were  but  few  persons  more  lordly  than  them- 
selves ;  few  to  whom  they  should  doff  their 
coonskin  caps.  With  bowie-knives  and  pistols 

67 


Romance  and  Realism 

stuck  above  their  leathern  breeches,  it  is  small 
wonder  that,  at  their  approach,  the  pompous 
watchmen  sank  into  the  depths  of  their  gor- 
geous uniforms,  and  neither  saw  nor  heard 
any  depredations  upon  the  quiet  of  the  hour. 
There  was  this  difference  between  the  Kain- 
tucks  and  Rex,  who  now  annually  enters  the 
city — if  the  keys  of  the  city  were  not  turned 
over  to  them,  they  took  possession  of  them 
with  perfect  good-humor,  and  held  high  but 
harmless  carnival  for  a  few  days.  Then,  as 
now,  the  Kentuckian  carried  with  him  his 
pluck  and  energy,  his  independence — and  his 
corkscrew. 

The  free  speech  of  the  present  newspaper 
reporters  would  not  have  accorded  with  the 
rigid  customs  of  those  times.  It  was  safer 
then  to  indulge  in  glittering  generalities,  for 
the  slightest  personalities,  the  least  reflection 
upon  one's  honor,  called  forth  a  flash  of  the 
rapier,  or  notes  were  exchanged,  and  at  day- 
break next  morning  two  quiet-looking  carriages 
rolled  out  to  the  Oaks,  or  to  some  other  duel- 
ing-ground near  the  city.  The  pen  refuses  to 
linger  upon  the  tragedies  of  this  subject,  for 
there  were  dark  and  desperate  tragedies  that 
chilled  the  heart ;  but  as  one  of  God's  greatest 
blessings  to  us  in  life,  some  of  the  most  somber 

68 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

subjects  are  often  relieved  with  touches  of  sen- 
timent and  humor. 

All  the  world  loves  a  lover,  and  all  the  world 
loves  a  fighter,  and  the  duel  often  combined 
the  two.  Innumerable  romances  are  connected 
with  this  subject.  The  story  is  told  that  a 
beautiful  Creole  girl  loved  a  noble  ^cavalier, 
but  while  her  heart  thrilled  t©  his  every  touch 
and  word,  his  ardent  devotion  was  repaid  with 
capricious  frowns,  and  to  others  she  gave  her 
smiles  and  favors.  One  night,  at  a  ball,  she 
accidentally  learned  that  he  was  to  fight  a 
duel  at  sunrise  the  next  morning,  but  not  by  a 
single  word  did  she  betray  to  him  her  knowl- 
edge of  this,  and  with  the  perversity  of  a 
woman's  heart,  she  yielded  not  to  the  plead- 
ings of  his  softened  voice.  She  was  the  gay- 
est of  the  gay  until  at  three  o'clock  she  bade 
him  good-bye,  the  flush  still  on  her  cheek,  the 
brightness  of  her  eye  undimmed — then  she 
drew  around  her  trembling  shoulders  her  white 
opera  cloak,  and  waited  for  the  dawn.  With 
the  first  ray  of  light,  her  ball  dress  unchanged, 
she  sprang  into  her  carriage  and  bade  her 
coachman  drive  to  the  Oaks.  Then,  sending 
him  a  short  distance  away,  she  stood  in  the 
shadow  of  the  trees,  white  and  motionless  as  a 
statue,  the  beating  of  her  heart  almost  stilled 

69 


Romance  and  Realism 

with  its  agony  of  suspense.  They  came,  and 
with  the  first  shot  her  lover  fell.  She  sprang 
forward,  and  the  brilliant  luster  of  her  eyes 
held  the  intensity  of  a  lifetime  ;  the  spirituelle 
pallor  of  her  face,  the  indescribable  grace  of 
her  swaying  body,  the  small  satin  slippers 
stained  with  grass,  the  silken  robe  trailing  in 
the  dew,  the  bare  white  arms  and  shoulders, 
upon  which  the  jewels  still  gleamed — all 
formed  a  beautiful  picture,  in  startling  contrast 
with  her  grewsome  surroundings.  But  even  the 
endearing  tones  of  her  voice  seemed  to  have 
the  power  of  calling  back  his  fleeting  spirit, 
for  the  surgeon  discovered  a  faint  throb  of  life, 
and  having  him  tenderly  put  into  her  carriage, 
she  carried  him  to  the  city  and  nursed  him 
back  to  life  and  happiness.  The  citadel  of 
woman's  heart  may  seem  impregnable,  but 
when  the  sweet  surrender  comes  at  last,  it  is 
complete  and  absolute. 

There  were  many  duels  in  which  there  was 
no  woman  at  the  bottom  of  the  case,  nor  in 
any  way  connected  with  it,  though  this  may 
be  doubted  by  cynical  bachelors  and  other 
people  equally  agreeable. 

Fortunately,  in  all  cases,  the  first  blood 
drawn  was  sufficient  to  appease  wounded 
honor.  In  many  cases  the  seconds  arranged 

70 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

matters  so  that  dignity  and  honor  were  pro- 
tected without  fatalities,  and  the  Sketch- 
book, replete  with  charming  information  of 
New  Orleans,  gives  one  quaint  instance  where 
the  principal  was  quite  capable  of  caring  for 
his  honor  and  saving  his  own  life.  The  affair 
was  between  Mons.  Marigny,  who  belonged 
to  one  of  the  oldest  families  of  Louisiana  and 
Mr.  Humble.  Marigny  was  sent  to  the  Legis- 
lature in  1817,  at  which  time  there  was  a  very 
strong  political  opposition  between  the  Creoles 
and  the  Americans,  which  provoked  many 
warm  debates  in  the  House  of  Representatives 
and  the  Senate.  Catahoula  parish  was  repre- 
sented by  a  Georgia  giant,  an  ex-blacksmith 
named  Humble,  a  man  of  plain  ways  but  pos- 
sessed of  many  sterling  qualities.  He  was 
remarkable  as  much  for  his  immense  stature 
as  for  his  political  diplomacy.  It  happened 
that  an  impassioned  speech  of  Mons.  Marigny 
was  replied  to  by  the  Georgian,  and  the  latter 
was  so  extremely  pointed  in  his  allusions  that 
his  opponent  felt  aggrieved  and  sent  a  chal- 
lenge to  mortal  combat.  The  Georgian  was 
nonplused. 

"  I    know  nothing  about   this  dueling  busi- 
ness," said  he,  "I  will  not  fight  him." 

71 


Romance  and  Realism 

"  You  must,"  said  his  friend.  "  No  gentle- 
man can  refuse." 

"  I  am  not  a  gentleman,"  replied  the  honest 
son  of  Georgia,  "  I  am  only  a  blacksmith." 

"  But  you  will  be  ruined  if  you  do  not 
fight,"  urged  his  friends,  "you  will  have  the 
choice  of  weapons,  and  you  can  choose  in 
such  a  way  as  to  give  yourself  an  equal  chance 
with  your  adversary." 

The  giant  asked  time  in  which  to  consider 
the  question,  and  ended  by  accepting.  He 
sent  the  following  reply  to  Mons.  Marigny : 

"  I  accept,  and  in  the  exercise  of  my  privi- 
lege, I  stipulate  that  the  duel  shall  take  place 
in  Lake  Pontchartrain,  in  six  feet  of  water, 
sledge  hammers  to  be  used  as  weapons." 

Mons.  Marigny  was  about  five  feet  eight 
inches  in  height  and  his  adversary  was  seven. 
The  conceit  of  the  Georgian  so  pleased 
Mons.  Marigny,  who  could  appreciate  a  joke 
as  well  as  perpetrate  one,  that  he  declared 
himself  satisfied,  and  the  duel  did  not  take 
place. 

The  Place  D'Armes,  now  Jackson  Square, 
was  the  commercial  and  social  rendezvous  of 
the  town.  Upon  its  sward  the  merriest  gather- 
ings were  held ;  there  the  itinerant  merchant 
vended  his  wares,  affairs  of  state  were  cele- 

72 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 


Romance  and  Realism 

brated,  or  the  gibbet  loomed  its  ghastly  frame, 
or  criminals  were  placed  alive  in  coffins,  nailed 
up,  and  slowly  sawed  in  two.  It  was  in  front 
of  the  cathedral,  government  house  and  cala- 
boose, and  adjoining  the  Halle  de  Boucheries, 
or  old  French  Market  house. 

The  last  name  applies  to  the  present  market 
house,  because  it  is  on  the  site  of  the  first  one 
used  in  New  Orleans  by  the  French.  For 
years  it  has  been  one  of  the  most  charming 
attractions  of  New  Orleans,  with  its  pictur- 
esque costumes  and  booths,  its  babel  of 
languages,  its  cafe  noir,  its  Indians  and  quad- 
roons, its  varied  nationalities  and  novel  com- 
modities. All  this  is  gradually  disappearing 
before  the  possession  of  the  thrifty,  practical 
American,  who  wears  plain  clothes  and  looks 
like  any  other  plain  man,  talks  plain  English, 
and  sells  plain  market  articles,  just  as  you 
would  find  them  in  any  other  plain  American 
markets.  It  is  somewhat  of  a  shock  to  know 
that  a  new  market  house,  with  all  modern  im- 
provements, is  planned  for  the  old  site.  One 
feels  tempted  to  protest  against  such  an  inno- 
vation, and  to  go  out  into  the  highways  and 
hedges  and  engage  a  few  Indians  and  foreign- 
ers to  stay  a  little  longer  with  their  shrill  but 
delightful  jargon  and  their  quaint  wares. 

74 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

It  is  in  just  such  places  as  the  old  French 
Market  that  we  would,  if  possible,  stay  the 
foot  of  progress.  To  improve  and  modernize 
it  is  like  taking  one  of  the  pictures  of  the  old 
masters  and  freshening  it  up  with  a  little  new 
paint. 

The  Cathedral  is  perhaps  dearer  to  the  New 
Orleans  people  than  any  other  building,  and 
inseparably  connected  with  the  history  of  the 
place. 

The  present  building  stands  on  the  same  site 
where  several  others  have  been  burned,  or 
destroyed  by  storm — the  first  house  having 
been  a  simple  shed,  when  the  population  was 
not  more  than  two  hundred.  The  present 
building  was  erected  in  1792  by  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  characters  who  ever  lived  in 
New  Orleans,  Don  Andres  Almonaster-y- 
Roxas.  His  body  rests  under  the  altar,  a 
marble  slab  is  inscribed  to  his  memory,  and 
there  every  Saturday  mass  is  said  for  the  re- 
pose of  his  soul.  Besides  building  the  Ca- 
thedral, he  founded  the  St.  Charles  Hospital 
and  its  chapel,  the  chapel  of  the  Lazarists,  the 
chapel  of  the  Ursulines  Convent,  a  hospital 
for  lepers,  schools  for  little  children,  the  Pres- 
bytery of  the  Cathedral,  and  many  other  chari- 
table institutions. 

75 


Romance  and  Realism 

His  daughter,  the  Baroness  Pontalba,  was 
scarcely  less  conspicuous  in  the  history  of  New 
Orleans.  Her  wealth,  style  of  living  and  life 
sounds  like  a  leaf  from  fairy  land.  When  she 
went  to  Paris  with  her  husband  she  bought  the 
beautiful  palace  containing  four  hundred  rooms, 
built  by  Louis  XIV  for  the  Due  du  Maine,  but 
she  afterward  built  a  smaller  but  just  as 
magnificent  palace  for  herself.  She  and  her 
father-in-law,  Baron  Pontalba,  disagreed  pain- 
fully, and  one  morning  they  were  found  in  his 
library,  he  quite  dead,  and  her  body  with  many 
bullet  wounds  in  it.  She  was  at  first  supposed  to 
be  lifeless,  but  lived  for  many  years  afterward. 
The  mystery  of  the  scene  was  never  explained. 

The  picturesque  delights  of  plantation  and 
town  life  can  be  appreciated  by  giving  two 
scenes  from  Miss  Grace  King's  charming 
work,  "  New  Orleans,  the  Place  and  the 
People." 

"  It  certainly  was  worth  traveling  fifty  miles 
to  hear  Mademoiselle  Macarty  described  by 
the  nonagenarian  historian  Gayarre  and  see 
one  of  her  visits  to  his  grandmother,  Madame 
de  Bore,  acted.  Her  carriage,  a  curiosity  in 
the  colony,  was  called  a  chaise  ;  it  was  like  a 
modern  coupe,  but  smaller,  with  sides  and 
front  of  glass.  There  was  no  coachman.  A 

76 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

postillion  rode  one  of  the  spirited  horses,  a 
little  black  rascal  of  a  postillion,  who  always 
rode  so  fast  and  so  wildly  that  his  tiny  cape 
stood  straight  out  behind  him  like  wings. 
When  in  a  cloud  of  dust  the  vehicle  turned 
into  the  Pecan  avenue,  the  little  darkies  sta- 
tioned there  would  shriek  out  in  shrill  excite- 
ment to  get  the  announcement  to  the  great 
gates  ahead  of  the  horses,  '  Mam'selle  Ma- 
carty  a  pe  vini,'  and  there  would  be  a  rush  in- 
side to  throw  the  gates  open  in  time.  And 
his  cape  flying  more  wildly  than  ever,  his 
elbows  beating  the  air  more  furiously,  the 
postillion  would  gallop  his  horses  in  a  sweep- 
ing circle  through  the  great  courtyard,  and 
bring  them  panting  to  a  brilliant  finale  before 
the  carriage  steps.  Mons.  de  Bore  would  be 
standing  there  with  his  lowest  bow  to  open  the 
carriage  door  and  hand  the  fair  one  out,  and 
lead  her  at  arms'  length  with  stately  minuet 
step  up  the  broad  brick  stairs  and  through  the 
hall  to  the  door  of  the  salon,  where  they 
would  face  each  other,  and  he  would  again 
bow  and  she  would  drop  a  curtesy  into  the 
very  hem  of  her  gown — her  Louis  XIV  gown — 
for  from  head  to  foot  she  always  dressed  in  an 
exact  copy  of  the  costume  of  Madame  de 
Maintenon ;  that  is,  all  to  her  arms,  which 

77 


Romance  and  Realism 

were  in  Mademoiselle  Macarty's  youth  so  ex- 
tremely beautiful  that  she  never  overcame  the 
habit,  even  in  extreme  cold  weather  and  old 
age,  of  exhibiting  them  bare  to  the  shoulders. 
The  mystery  why  with  her  great  wealth  and 
her  great  beauty  she  had  never  married  re- 
mained a  vivid  one — even  when  old  age  had 
effaced  every  thing  except  the  fame  of  her  ra- 
diant youth." 

Not  less  attractive  was  Miss  King's  picture 
of  town  life :  "  The  early  rising  and  cup  of 
coffee ;  the  great  court  yard  stretching  open 
for  all  the  breezes  and  all  the  world  that  chose 
to  enter ;  the  figs,  pomegranates,  bananas, 
crape  myrtles,  and  oleanders  glittering  in  the 
dew ;  the  calls  in  the  street,  musical  negro 
cries  heralding  vegetables,  fruits,  and  sweets  ; 
'  Belles  des  figues  !  '  '  Tout  chauds  !  Tout 
chauds  ! '  '  Barataria  !  Barataria ! '  '  Confitures 
coco ! '  '  Pralines  Pistache  ! '  *  Pralines  Pecanes ! ' 
the  family  marchande  coming  into  the  court- 
yard swaying  her  body  on  her  hips  to  balance 
the  basket  on  her  head,  sitting  on  the  steps  to 
give  the  morning  news  to  the  family  sitting 
around  the  breakfast  table  on  the  gallery ;  the 
dining-room  on  the  rez  de  c/ianssee  and  opening 
into  the  street  for  all  passers  by  to  see,  if  they 
would,  the  great  family  board  (for  there  were 

78 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

no  small  families  in  the  ancient  regime)  and 
the  pompous  butler,  and  the  assistant  '  gardi- 
enne '  in  bright  head  handkerchief,  gold-hoop 
earrings,  white  fichu  and  gay  flowered  gowns !  " 

Even  the  pralines  sold  on  the  street  have  a 
history.  Made  into  large  disks  of  brown  sugar, 
pecans,  cocoanuts  or  peanuts,  they  are  delicious. 
Many  dyspeptics  have  been  tempted  and 
tempted  again,  until  the  memory  of  the  dainty 
confections  became  one  of  painful  pleasure. 

It  is  said  that  a  nobleman  banished  from 
France  landed  in  New  Orleans,  dependent 
alone  upon  his  wits,  but  these  did  not  fail  him. 
He  bought  a  few  pounds  of  sugar  and  some 
pecans,  and  established  the  first  of  those  pop- 
ular stands  now  seen  on  so  many  street  corners 
of  the  city,  He  had  a  wonderful  dog  who  ex- 
amined the  picayunes  that  were  given  in  and 
threw  out  those  that  were  counterfeit,  and  an 
equally  wonderful  monkey  whose  tricks  were 
not  less  attractive.  Crowds  flocked  to  his 
stand,  and  his  empty  coffers  were  soon  filled. 
In  the  day  time  he  was  the  street  merchant, 
but  in  the  evening  he  was  the  courtly  noble- 
man, and,  donning  his  costume  de  rigiier,  he 
was  welcomed  into  the  most  elegant  homes, 
and  his  brilliant  bon  mots  quoted  every-where. 
With  his  pralines  he  amassed  a  fortune.  A 

79 


Romance  and  Realism 

sudden  change  in  the  political  situation  of 
France — for  France  sometimes  has  these  little 
changes — restored  to  him  his  title  and  vast 
estates. 

New  Orleans  is  a  city  of  magnificent  dis- 
tances. It  is  187  square  miles  or  119,680 
acres,  but  not  over  one-tenth  of  this  is  inhab- 
ited. The  reason  that  the  city  limits  are  so 
immense  is  that  it  is  necessary  to  have  this 
country  under  municipal  law  for  drainage.  The 
geographical  center  of  the  city  is  a  dense 
swamp,  but,  when  a  picture  of  it  was  taken  and 
sent  to  a  northern  magazine  as  the  heart  of 
the  city,  the  editors  declined  to  accept  it,  say- 
ing that  the  public  would  not  believe  such 
representation  to  be  true. 

There  are  two  seasons  in  New  Orleans  pe- 
culiar to  the  place  :  Mardi  Gras  is  a  season  of 
unbounded  revelry  and  joy,  but  All  Saints 
Day — les  jours  des  morts — is  consecrated  to 
the  dead. 

In  the  early  days  of  the  colony  many  of  the 
young  people  were  sent  to  Paris  to  be  edu- 
cated, and  from  that  place,  in  1827,  was  in- 
troduced the  custom  of  celebrating  Mardi 
Gras.  It  seemed  peculiarly  appropriate  that 
Louisiana  should  celebrate  Mardi  Gras,  as 
Iberville  and  Bienville  landed  in  Louisiana  on 

80 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

Mardi  Gras  Day.  The  first  floats  used  in 
such  celebrations  originated  in  Mobile  in  1831 
by  the  Cowbellians,  and  floats  were  not  used 
in  New  Orleans  until  1857.  Rex  did  not  enter 
the  city  until  1872,  when  he  came  attended  by 
a  body  guard  of  Arabs. 

It  was  on  the  occasion  of  the  visit  of  the 
Grand  Duke  Alexis,  and  since  that  time  he  has 
come  regularly.  To  Rex  the  keys  of  the  city 
are  given,  and  all  the  people  are  his  most  loyal 
subjects  until  the  last  notes  of  the  carnival  die 
away  with  the  dawn  of  Ash  Wednesday,  when 
he  mysteriously  disappears  until  the  next 
year's  carnival.  Mardi  Gras  is  one  of  the 
many  joyous  occasions  of  New  Orleans,  for 
the  Frenchman  believes  that  this  life  is  worth 
living,  and  fails  to  adopt  the  Scotchman's  stern 
creed  :  "  You'll  be  damned  if  you  do,  and 
you'll  be  damned  if  you  don't." 

There  are  several  organizations  devoted  to 
Mardi  Gras,  the  oldest  being  the  Mistick 
Krewe,  Twelfth  Night  Revelers,  Knights  of 
Momus,  etc.  During  the  year  they  are  busy 
for  the  next  celebration,  but  all  in  the  pro- 
foundest  secrecy.  To  appreciate  the  splendor 
of  Mardi  Gras,  it  must  be  seen.  It  is  simply 
magnificent  tableaux  representing  the  finest 
works  of  prose  and  poetry :  Lallah  Rookh, 

81 


Romance  and  Realism 

Mythology,  Spenser's  Fairie  Queen,  Homer's 
Tale  of  Troy,  the  Romance  of  Mexico,  Mother 
Goose's  Tea  Party,  the  Birds  of  Audubon,  and 
too  many  others  to  mention. 

On  All-saints  Day  the  streets,  carriages, 
street  cars,  and  every  conceivable  vehicle,  seem 
to  be  moving  flower  gardens.  Every  one  is 
laden  with  flowers — dried  immortelles  made 
of  curled,  glazed,  white,  black  and  purple  pa- 
per, fragrant  flowers  covered  with  sparkling 
dew,  anchors,  hearts,  crosses  and  wreaths — all 
wending  their  way  to  the  city  of  the  dead. 
There,  for  days  previous,  the  scene  has  been  a 
busy  one.  On  account  of  the  marshy  nature 
of  the  soil — water  being  very  near  the  sur- 
face— the  dead  are  generally  buried  above 
ground  in  receiving  vaults,  one  above  the 
other.  The  lots,  however,  are  cleaned  of  every 
withered  leaf  and  twig  ;  each  lot  has  its  work- 
ers, and  outside  the  city  gates  the  scene  is  a 
busy  one.  There  are  venders  of  sand,  grass, 
garden  tools,  even  coffee  booths — every  thing 
that  could  be  needed  by  the  workers. 

At  midnight  it  is  said  the  dead  arise,  and 
shaking  off  the  cerements  of  the  grave,  greet 
each  other  and  are  free  until  the  dawn.  Then, 
in  their  narrow  homes,  they  wait  for  their  loved 
ones,  for  they  know  that  they  will  come  laden 

82 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

with  flowers.  If  in  the  rush  and  necessities 
of  life  during  the  past  year  they  may  at  times 
have  been  forgotten,  it  will  not  be  so  to-day, 
for  the  day  is  theirs.  Loving  tears  will  be 
given  to  them,  and  the  tender  murmured  words 
will  speak  only  of  their  virtues,  for  their  faults 
will  be  forgotten.  And  when  the  shadows  of 
evening  come  they  will  be  left  covered  with 
beautiful  flowers  and  tenderest  remembrance. 
At  each  gate  a  nun  stands  with  orphans  be- 
side her,  and  their  appealing  baskets  are  filled 
with  coins  by  the  passing  crowd. 

If  New  Orleans  is  one  of  the  gayest  of  all 
cities,  it  is  also  one  of  the  most  devout.  The 
Ursuline  Convent,  established  in  1727  by  Louis 
XV,  is  the  oldest  building  in  the  Mississippi 
valley,  and  the  oldest  convent  in  the  United 
States.  Of  the  rigid  order  of  the  Discalced 
Carmelites  there  are  only  four  in  the  United 
States,  one  being  in  New  Orleans.  When  a 
nun  enters  this  order  she  is  buried  to  the 
world,  and  her  face  is  never  seen  again  save 
by  her  sisters  in  prayer.  Eight  hours  of  the 
day  are  given  to  the  church  service,  and  their 
fast  is  only  lightly  broken  from  the  I4th  of 
September  until  Easter.  Their  bare  cells  con- 
tain only  a  chair,  a  table,  and  a  bed  made  by 
resting  two  planks  on  rude  benches  ;  these 

83 


Romance  and  Realism 

planks  have  a  little  straw  on  them,  and  their 
only  covering  is  a  sheet  of  serge.  They  flag- 
ellate their  tender  bodies  until  the  blood  some- 
times falls.  For  permission  to  have  a  drink 
of  water  they  must  ask  the  mother  superior, 
and  the  granting  of  this  request  is  often  post- 
poned if  the  mother  thinks  patience  can  stand 
self-denial  a  little  longer.  At  night  their  sup- 
per is  two  ounces  of  bread  measured  out  to 
each — the  weight  of  four  soda  crackers — with 
a  little  tea  or  wine.  They  desire  to  suffer  as 
Jesus  suffered  in  the  world,  and  by  their  pray- 
ers and  penance  these  lovely,  living  saints  en- 
deavor, in  a  measure,  to  expiate  the  sins  of  the 
world. 

Where  the  famous  quadroon  balls  were  given 
there  is  now  a  colored  convent.  The  subject 
of  the  quadroons  is  one  of  the  saddest  of  all 
the  minor  chords  of  love  and  suffering  in  the 
history  of  New  Orleans.  These  beautiful 
women,  with  their  liquid  dark  eyes,  their  rich 
complexions  tinged  with  brilliant  color,  their 
graceful  figures,  gleaming  jewels  and  elegant 
dresses,  won  the  devotion  of  ardent  admirers 
and  wrecked  the  happiness  of  many  homes. 
But  a  change  came  over  the  spirit  of  the 
times.  The  quadroon  balls  ceased  to  exist, 
but  the  beautiful  women  still  lived,  knowing 

84 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

that  their  white  blood  lifted  them  far  above  the 
negro  circles,  and  that  their  negro  blood  closed 
against  them  the  social  circles  of  irreproach- 
able standing.  In  anguish  of  spirit  they  felt 
that  in  all  the  wide  world  there  was  no  resting 
place  for  their  weary  feet.  But  the  church, 
with  divine  compassion,  forgave  them  for  a  sin 
that  was  not  theirs,  and  enfolding  many  of 
these  sinless  souls  of  a  sinful  love  in  her  pro- 
tecting arms,  they  found  purity,  usefulness  and 
happiness  in  a  convent. 

Where  music  and  dancing  once  sounded, 
there  is  now  the  noiseless  footstep  of  the  nun ; 
where  the  beautiful,  restless  eyes  once  told 
of  weary  hearts,  there  is  now  the  benediction 
of  peace ;  and  where  the  siren's  voice  once 
lured  to  destruction,  the  nun's  murmured  prayer 
lifts  the  struggling  soul  heavenward. 

New  Orleans  also  has  its  ghost  stories, 
especially  that  of  the  Haunted  Exchange. 
This  house  was  once  the  scene  of  hospitable 
elegance,  its  wealthy  mistress  a  leader  in 
every  public  enterprise.  For  years,  however, 
she  secretly  treated  her  slaves  with  the  utmost 
cruelty.  So  little  was  any  thing  of  this  kind 
tolerated  by  the  people,  that,  when  it  was  dis- 
covered, an  indignant  mob  rushed  to  the 
house,  threw  the  costly  ornaments  into  the 

85 


Romance  and  Realism 

street,  and  only  the  dismantled  walls  were  left 
standing.  The  terrified  mistress  escaped  by 
a  back  street,  where  a  carriage  was  waiting, 
and  fled  to  France,  from  which  place  she 
never  dared  to  return. 

The  house  is  still  pointed  out  to  strangers, 
and,  in  low  tones  and  with  many  significant 
glances,  the  story  is  told  that  no  one  who  has 
ever  lived  there  has  prospered  since  that  night 
of  righteous  indignation.  The  writer,  how- 
ever, has  recently  visited  the  place,  and  found 
the  occupants  looking  like  people  who  eat  and 
sleep  with  good  average  comfort.  Neither 
did  they  seem  disposed  to  unfold  any  tales 
that  would  harrow  the  soul  and  make  "  each 
particular  hair  to  stand  on  end/' 

History  opens  her  pages  of  interest  to  us, 
but  it  is  not  more  charming  than  the  object 
lessons  of  the  past  received  from  varied  archi- 
tecture, monuments,  and  names  of  streets. 
Even  the  epitaphs  of  the  cemeteries  speak  in 
silent  but  eloquent  language  of  the  great  ones 
of  church  and  state,  or  the  lowly  ones  in  their 
humble  walks  of  life  who  have  helped  to  make 
the  history  of  the  place  ;  its  varied  language 
tells  of  the  successive  possession  of  French, 
Spanish  and  American,  or  the  tie  of  love 
between  master  and  slave.  Nothing  could  be 

86 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

more  simple  and  touching  than  an  epitaph 
in  Girod  Cemetery :  "  Mammy,  aged  84  ; 
a  faithful  servant.  She  lived  and  died  a 
Christian." 

After  the  disastrous  fires  of  1780  and  1794, 
the  temporary  French  frame  houses  were 
superseded  by  the  substantial  Spanish  houses 
with  their  tiled  roofs,  their  quaint  balconies 
jutting  far  over  the  streets  to  be  socially  near 
their  neighbors  across  the  way,  their  great 
open  courts,  odd  windows,  and  all  that  goes 
to  make  the  picturesque. 

In  his  book,  "  The  Manhattaner  in  New  Or- 
leans," Oakey  Hall  was  most  enthusiastic  over 
the  names  of  the  streets  in  New  Orleans,  and 
pronounced  them  more  beautiful  than  those  of 
any  other  city  in  the  Union.  They  mark  the  pro- 
gress of  the  city  step  by  step.  Ursuline  tells  us 
of  the  arrival  of  the  good  nuns  in  1727,  the  first 
real  educators  of  the  city ;  Hospital  street, 
the  founding  of  the  hospital ;  the  Napoleonic 
craze  was  marked  by  the  names  of  a  number 
of  streets — Napoleon  avenue,  Jena,  Auster- 
litz,  and  a  number  of  others.  In  their  love 
for  the  classics,  any  number  of  Greek  and 
Latin  names  were  adopted.  They  captured 
all  the  Muses  and  Graces,  but  their  names 
are  so  filtrated  through  French  pronunciation 

87 


Romance  and   Realism 

that  Parnassus  itself  could  scarcely  recognize 
its  representatives. 

The  monuments  of  the  city  are  not  all  cast 
in  bronze  and  marble  in  cold  commemora- 
tion of  the  dead,  but  many  of  them  are  the 
homes  for  the  living,  the  sick,  and  suffering; 
or  they  open  the  halls  of  knowledge  to  the 
struggling  masses,  and  give  them  footholds 
into  higher  walks  of  life.  And  around  some 
of  these  buildings  are  woven  such  stories  of 
romance  that  we  forget  the  realism  of  their 
brick  and  mortar,  and  through  and  through 
they  become  to  us  palaces  beautiful. 

To  John  McDonogh  the  public  schools  owe 
untold  gratitude,  and  yet  his  life  was  one  of 
bitter  disappointment,  and  his  days  were  spent 
in  sorrow  and  isolation.  When  a  young  man, 
he  came  from  Baltimore  to  New  Orleans,  and 
his  elegant  bachelor  home  was  the  center  of 
gayety  and  refinement.  He  loved  and  was 
beloved  by  a  beautiful  accomplished  girl,  but 
she  was  a  Roman  Catholic  and  he  was  a 
Protestant,  and  her  parents  were  unyielding 
in  their  opposition.  She  joined  the  Ursuline 
nuns,  and  he  closed  his  beautiful  home  and 
became  a  business  automaton.  There  was 
only  one  bright  spot  to  him  in  each  year  as 
it  passed — when  she  became  Mother  Superior 

88 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

of  the  Convent,  he  with  others  was  allowed 
on  New  Year's  Day  a  brief,  ceremonious  call. 
So  entirely  did  he  deny  himself  all  the  luxuries 
.of  life  that  he  was  often  slightingly  mentioned 
as  a  miser. 

But  his  soul  was  not  slumbering,  for  when 
it  winged  its  flight  from  the  worn-out,  dis- 
crepit,  and  lifeless  body,  a  will  was  found  with 
tenderest  provision  for  the  poor  and  needy. 
His  vast  wealth  was  divided  between  the 
schools  of  Baltimore  and  New  Orleans,  and  a 
pathetic  clause  in  his  will  asked  that  little  chil- 
dren would  come  and  lay  flowers  on  his  grave 
once  a  year. 

Judah  Touro  also  loved  and  was  beloved, 
but  the  objection  of  her  family  was  insur- 
mountable. He  buried  his  broken  heart  in 
a  life  of  active  business  and  broad  charity. 
To  himself  he  denied  every  luxury,  but  to 
the  needy  his  purse  was  open.  For  the 
Dispersed  of  Judah  he  built  a  magnificent 
synagogue,  the  ground  alone  costing  $60,000. 
The  Touro  Infirmary  cost  $40,000 ;  he  gave 
$20,000  to  the  Bunker  Hill  monument,  $40,000 
to  the  Jewish  Cemetery,  at  Newport,  Rhode 
Island,  and  any  number  of  other  charities. 

Every  city  has  its  examples  of  transition  from 
poverty  to  wealth,  or  from  wealth  to  poverty, 

89 


Romance  and  Realism 

but  for  these  changes  of  fortune  New  Orleans 
seemed  to  have  an  underlying  current  of  sen- 
timent peculiarly  her  own. 

Julian  Poydras  commenced  his  career  in 
New  Orleans  with  a  pack  on  his  back,  yet  in 
a  few  years  he  entertained  at  his  home,  with 
royal  magnificence,  Louis  Phillippe,  Duke  of 
Orleans,  and  his  party,  and  it  is  said  he  fur- 
nished the  exiled  prince  with  money.  At  his 
death  he  left  twelve  hundred  slaves,  with  in- 
structions that  they  should  be  freed — this, 
unfortunately,  however,  was  never  done.  He 
founded  the  Poydras  Asylum,  a  college  for 
indigent  orphans,  and  gave  innumerable  other 
charities.  To  several  parishes  he  bequeathed 
$30,000,  the  interest  of  which  was  to  be  given 
each  year  to  the  dowerless  young  girls  who 
married  during  the  year.  Mr.  Poydras  was 
never  married,  but  who  can  tell  what  tender 
memory  may  have  dwelt  in  the  heart  that  re- 
ceived this  poetic  inspiration  to  give  to  others 
that  sweetest  of  all  blessings — dearer  than 
fame,  dearer  than  wealth — domestic  happiness. 

In  New  Orleans  was  erected  the  first  statue 
in  the  United  States  to  a  woman — and  that 
woman  was  simply  a  washerwoman,  a  dairy 
woman  and  baker — who  drove  her  own  cart 
and  delivered  her  goods  at  back  doors,  and 

90 


of  the  Southern   Gulf  Coast. 


Romance  and  Realism 

could  neither  read  nor  write  ;  but  when  she 
died,  the  highest  dignitaries  of  the  city  honored 
her  memory,  and  her  statue  in  its  homely  at- 
tire, was  placed  in  front  of  one  of  the  orphan 
asylums  that  she  had  befriended. 

The  orphans  of  the  city  were  in  great  need, 
and  in  her  cart  she  gathered  every-where  food 
and  old  clothes  for  them,  and  she  gave  to  them 
with  lavish  generosity  from  her  small  earnings  ; 
but  the  more  she  gave  the  more  fortune  seemed 
to  smile  on  her,  until  her  bakeries  grew  from 
small  beginnings  to  immense  profitable  estab- 
lishments, and  all  the  orphans  of  the  city  con- 
sidered her  their  best  friend. 

There  are  several  varieties  of  that  being 
poetically  described  by  Rudyard  Kipling,  as 
"A  rag,  a  bone,  and  a  hank  of  hair."  Some 
are  pieces  of  delicate,  beautiful  bric-a-brac 
intended  only  for  parlor  ornament;  some  are 
utterly  without  ornament,  but  with  hearts  that 
radiate  sunshine  all  about  them,  and  with 
strong  shoulders  that  not  only  bear  their  own 
burdens,  but  those  of  the  helpless  and  dependent. 
Such  a  woman  was  Margaret  Haughery,  and 
there  is  no  name  enshrined  with  more  rever- 
ence and  respect  in  the  hearts  of  New  Orleans 
people  than  that  of  this  lowly  but  wonderful 
philanthropist. 

92 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

It  is  impossible  to  mention  all  the  charming 
incidents  of  New  Orleans  in  one  chapter,  nor 
to  dwell  on  its  many  elegant  clubs,  its  regattas, 
its  sports,  its  universities,  libraries,  public 
buildings,  nor  its  many  wonderful  characters. 
It  was  here  that  Adah  Isaacs  Menken  com- 
menced her  brilliant  checkered  career ;  here 
that  Paul  Morphy  lived,  the  champion  chess 
player  of  the  world,  who  received  in  London, 
Paris  and  elsewhere  royal  ovations ;  and  in 
New  Orleans  was  commenced  the  wonderful 
law  suit  of  Myra  Clark  Gaines.  which  dragged 
its  slow  length  along  for  many  years. 

To  history  is  left  the  details  of  the  exultant 
welcome  given  to  the  hero  of  Chalmette,  and 
the  despair  and  disorder  of  New  Orleans  when 
in  1862  Farragut  entered  it.  A  city  of  burn- 
ing cotton,  its  fine  docks  at  Algiers  destroyed, 
its  gutters  running  with  molasses,  its  stores 
opened  for  the  people  to  help  themselves,  in 
order  that  such  supplies  should  not  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  Nor  shall  we  dwell  on 
that  period  after  the  war  when  the  noble  state 
of  Louisiana  was  given  over  to  the  rule  of  the 
carpet-bagger  and  the  negro — when  the  state 
hall  of  the  old  St.  Louis  Hotel  that  had 
echoed  to  the  silver-tongued  eloquence  of 
refinement  and  culture  resounded  to  corn-field 

93 


Romance  and  Realism 

lung  power,  of  which  the  following  is  a 
sample:  "  Dat  de  gen'l'm  from  de  parish  of 
St.  Ouelquechose  was  developing  assurtions 
and  expurgating  ratiocinations  clean  agin  de 
fust  principles  of  law  and  equity." 

94 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 


CHAPTER   V. 

r.KAUVOIR    AND    THE    MYSTERIOUS    MUSIC    OF    THE 

SEA. 

The  sea-coast  has  felt  each  heart-throb  of 
the  nation's  history.  She  has  welcomed  to 
her  shore  the  heroes  of  her  own  and  other 
lands.  In  the  depths  of  her  solitude,  brave 
men  have  dreamed  of  the  future  greatness  of 
this  country,  and  nature  has  smiled  upon  their 
budding  hopes,  or  wept  with  them  over  the 
sere  and  yellow  leaf  of  their  failures  and  dis- 
appointments. Nature  is  a  confidante  who 
never  betrays  the  most  exquisite  suffering, 
who  never  jars  us  by  idle  words,  but  in  her 
own  sweet,  silent  way  uplifts,  soothes,  and 
comforts. 

It  is  here  that  the  rippling  waters  of  the 
gulf  bring  the  languor  of  the  tropics  to  meet 
the  thrifty  energy  of  the  North,  and  here  the 
refugees  from  San  Domingo,  France,  and  all 
the  points  of  the  earth  have  wept  over  a  past 
that  could  not  be  recalled,  or  found  oblivion 
of  their  troubles  in  renewed  prosperity  and 
happiness.  Changing  with  each  season,  nature 

95 


Romance  and  Realism 


I 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

here  is  always  beautiful — as  beautiful  now  as 
when,  two  hundred  years  ago,  La  Salle  took 
possession  of  the  lands  of  Louisiana  and  the 
great  river  in  the  name  of  his  king,  and  the 
cathedral  bells  of  Canada  rang  out  exultant 
over  the  fame  of  his  great  discovery — bells, 
however,  that  soon  tolled  the  news  of  his  death 
by  the  assassin's  blow.  His  only  heritage  of 
the  vast  area  that  he  had  discovered  was  six 
feet  of  ground  as  a  resting-place ;  the  only 
earthly  possession  that  the  greatest  can  claim 
after  life's  fitful  fever  is  over.  The  name  of 
the  fort  of  Croeve  Coeur  testified  that  when 
he  reached  the  last  days  of  his  long  and  noble 
life,  he  was  broken-hearted. 

It  was  here  that  the  youthful  Bienville,  the 
father  of  Louisiana,  brought  a  statesmanship 
that  has  not  since  been  excelled,  and  that 
taught  him  to  deal  successfully  with  the  In- 
dians. Here  he  fought  his  battles  of  victory 
and  defeat,  and  bore  all  the  hardships  of  pio- 
neer life,  until,  calumniated  by  his  rivals,  he 
became  broken-spirited  and  discouraged.  In 
his  old  age,  he  turned  his  reluctant  steps  to 
France,  but  left  his  heart  and  dearest  hopes 
with  the  land  of  his  adoption. 

The  end  of  life  has  often  brought  to  the 
97 


Romance  and  Realism 

great  hearts  of  the  earth  misconstruction  and 
sorrow. 

It  has  not  been  many  years  since  these  sad 
sea  waves  sang  the  requiem  of  Southern  woe, 
and  soothed. the  last  days  of  a  man  who  em- 
bodied the  rise  and  fall  of  Confederate  hopes- 
Jefferson  Davis. 

Beauvoir,  with  its  beautiful  view  of  the  sea, 
is  one  of  the  favorite  spots  of  interest  to  both 
northern  and  southern  tourists.  There  are 
some  visitors  to  Beauvoir  frivolous  and  indif- 
ferent, but  before  the  silent  grandeur  of  the 
place  the  light  laughter  and  jesting  words  are 
hushed.  There  is  an  indescribable  influence  in 
the  stately  oaks  with  their  mournful  swaying 
gray  moss,  the  broad  verandas  with  their 
fluted  columns,  the  silence  of  the  deserted 
rooms,  the  white  draperies  that  enwrap  furni- 
niture  and  bric-a-brac  and  stand  around  like 
ghostly  phantoms,  the  books  that  seem  to  be 
falling  from  the  shelves  from  disuse  and  old 
age,  the  empty  chair  in  which  Mr.  Davis  thought 
and  planned  his  book,  "The  Rise  and  Fall  of 
the  Confederate  Government,"  the  floating 
cobwebs,  the  crumbling  plastering  and  the 
tangled  flower  beds  and  undergrowth. — These 
teach  earth's  inexorable  law  that  all  things  ani- 
mate and  inanimate,  exalted  and  humble,  must 

98 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

yield  to  destruction  and  oblivion.  There  is 
something  in  the  sorrows  of  a  great  man  which 
appeals  to  the  latent  nobility  of  every  heart, 
and  in  all  ages  the  chivalry  of  the  victor  to  the 
vanquished  has  met  with  the  plaudits  of  the 
earth,  but  it  is  not  the  object  of  this  little  book 
to  enter  into  the  rights  and  wrongs  of  the  civil 
war,  for  Time's  obliterating  touch  is  rapidly  re- 
moving the  scars  of  that  unfortunate  period. 

Even  now,  in  a  distressed  island,  the  honor 
of  the  United  States  is  jealously  guarded  by 
an  ex-Confederate  General. 

With  his  own  hands  he  has  placed  the  old' 
flag  above  his  couch.  At  night  his  last  glance 
rests  upon  it  as  dreams  of  home  and  native 
land  succeed  the  anxious  responsibilities  of  the 
day  ;  and  when  morning  comes,  his  first  waking 
glance  dwells  upon  its  brilliant  folds,  and  his 
devotion  to  it  can  not  be  questioned. 

In  this  crisis  of  his  country's  history,  the 
great,  loyal  heart  of  Fitzhugh  Lee  knows  no 
sectional  lines  of  North  and  South,  but  he  does 
know  that  a  Solid  South  is  ready  to  rise  in  de- 
fense of  the  nation's  honor. 

It  had  been  far  better  for  the  world  from  the 
beginning,  however,  had  the  gates  of  Janus 
never  unclosed,  for  when  war  descends,  even 
upon  the  most  civilized  nations,  it  means  deso- 

99 


Romance  and  Realism 

lation,  pain  and  anguish,  and  the  trail  of  the 
serpent  is  over  it  all. 

Soon  after  the  late  war,  Mrs.  Sarah  A.  Dorsey 
welcomed  to  her  home,  Beauvoir,  the  Confed- 
erate President  and  his  family. 

She  was  a  woman  of  fine  mind  and  gener- 
ous impulses.  She  was  not  only  a  good  histo- 
rian, but  a  fine  linguist.  Brilliant  and  restless, 
she  had  felt  an  infinite  longing  all  her  life  for 
something  higher  and  better  than  the  ordinary 
routine  of  life,  and  in  making  her  home  the 
refuge  for  a  broken  heart,  she  found  the  peace 
of  a  mission  fulfilled. 

Her  friendship  for  Mrs.  Davis  had  begun  in 
their  schooldays,  and  alternately  they  acted  as 
amanuensis  for  Mr.  Davis  in  preparing  the 
first  volume  of  his  book. 

As  the  home  of  Mr.  Davis,  Beauvoir  be- 
came the  Mecca  of  the  South  and  a  spot  of 
greatest  interest  to  the  North.  Visitors  from 
all  sections  of  the  United  States  were  received 
with  a  simple  hospitality  that  befitted  his  for- 
tunes, and  the  refined,  cultivated  atmosphere 
of  his  home  gave  to  it  an  indescribable  charm. 
It  was  most  natural  that  Mr.  Davis's  friends 
should  be  enthusiastic  over  him,  but  the  fol- 
lowing sketch  of  him  has  been  given  by  the 

100 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

historian,  Mr.  James  Redpath,  a  lifelong  politi- 
cal opponent : 

"  He  seemed  the  ideal  embodiment  of 
sweetness  and  light.  I  never  heard  him 
speak  an  unkind  word  of  any  man.  His  man- 
ner could  best  be  described  as  gracious,  so 
exquisitely  refined,  so  courtly,  yet  heart-warm. 
The  dignity  of  most  of  our  public  men  reminds 
one  of  the  hod-carrier's  'store  suit/  Mr. 
Davis's  dignity  was  as  natural  and  charming 
as  the  perfume  of  the  rose — the  fitting  ex- 
pression of  a  serene,  benign,  and  comely  moral 
nature." 

One  rare  characteristic  he  possessed,  which 
should  have  recommended  him  to  his  strongest 
opponents  :  it  is  said  of  him  that  "  he  was  an 
orator  who  gave  close  attention  to  the  neces- 
sity of  stopping  when  he  was  done."  Many 
brilliant  men,  from  time  immemorial,  have 
been  unable  to  stop  when  they  were  done, 
whether  it  was  a  flight  of  oratory,  a  social  call, 
or  any  of  those  pleasant  scenes  in  life  when  a 
little  would  be  most  bright  and  restful,  and  a 
little  too  much  would  be  most  witless  and  bur- 
densome. 

The  life  of  Mr.  Davis  was  one  of  strange 
and  romantic  vicissitudes.  At  West  Point,  he 
was  the  classmate  of  R.  E.  Lee,  and  when  the 

101 


Romance  and  Realism 

Black  Hawk  was  begun,  it  is  said  that  at  Fort 
Snelling  he  administered  to  Abraham  Lincoln 
his  first  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  United 
States.  In  that  wild  frontier  life,  these  two 
young  men,  who  were  afterward  to  figure  so 
conspicuously  in  the  history  of  their  country, 
learned  the  art  of  Indian  warfare,  and  saw  an 
eagle's  feather  added  to  a  warrior's  head-dress 
for  each  scalp  he  took.  There  they  went  to 
the  gumbo  balls  of  Wisconsin,  where  a  bowl 
of  gumbo  and  an  ample  slice  of  bread  consti- 
tuted the  refreshments,  and  an  old-fashioned 
fiddle  furnished  the  music,  and  gave  more 
pleasure  than  is  often  given  now  by  a  full  or- 
chestra to  tired  revelers. 

The  tragic  death  of  Mr.  Lincoln  was  a  great 
misfortune  to  the  South.  Genial  and  kind- 
hearted,  he  had  shown  a  desire,  after  the  sur- 
render, to  be  just  to  that  section  of  country. 
The  man  who  had  so  long  dwelt  in  the  shadow 
of  stage  tragedy  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  through 
the  North  and  South  by  his  last  acting. 

Both  Mr.  Lincoln  and  Mr.  Davis  were 
social  and  possessed  a  keen  sense  of  humor, 
and  to  Mr.  Davis  especially  this  was  a  buoy- 
ant comfort  in  the  last  scenes  of  his  life. 

An  appeal  to  the  humorous  side  of  his 
nature  was  almost  irresistible,  as  instanced  by 

102 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

the  following  note  received  during  one  of  the 
darkest  periods  of  the  war: 

Dear  Mr.  President: — I  want  you  to  let 
Jeems  C.  of  Company  Oneth,  South  Carolina 
Regiment,  come  home  and  get  married.  Jeems 
is  willin',  I  is  willin',  his  mammy  says  she  is 
willin',  but  Jeems'  Captain  he  aint  willin'. 
Now,  when  we  are  all  willin'  cep'n  Jeems' 
Captain,  I  think  you  might  let  up  and  let 
Jeems  come.  I'll  make  him  go  straight  back 
when  he's  done  got  married  and  fight  just  as 
hard  as  ever. 

Your  affectionate  friend,  etc. 

Mrs.  Davis  tells  us,  in  her  Memoirs  of  Mr. 
Davis,  that  he  could  not  refuse  this  earnest 
request  from  an  "  affectionate  friend." 

Much  has  been  said  of  the  reckless  extrava- 
gance of  Southern  people,  but  perhaps  this 
extravagance  reached  its  height  during  the 
war.  While  the  thrifty  New  Englander  was 
giving  $5.00  an  ounce  for  quinine,  the  spend- 
thrift Southerner,  in  1865,  did  not  hesitate 
(when  he  could  get  it)  to  pay  $1,700.00  an 
ounce.  He  gave  from  $125.00  to  $150.00  for 
a  pair  of  shoes,  $300.00  for  a  barrel  of  flour, 
$3,000.00  for  a  plain  suit  of  clothes,  and 

103 


Romance  and  Realism 

$125.00  for  a  penknife.  A  dinner  for  one  man 
sometimes  cost  $500.00 ;  but,  then,  who  has 
not  heard  of  the  Southern  tables  laden  with 
every  delicacy  that  could  be  desired  ?  At 
this  time  the  people  absolutely  seemed  to  fail 
to  appreciate  the  value  of  their  money,  and 
sometimes  threw  it  away  or  burned  it.  The 
unique  fashions  also  have  never  been  dupli- 
cated before  or  since.  Ladies  adopted  the 
custom  of  wearing  shoes  made  from  old  sails 
and  carpets  ;  they  used  parched  sweet  pota- 
toes, corn  or  okra  for  coffee ;  homespun 
dresses  had  never  been  at  such  a  premium 
since  pioneer  days,  and  silks  and  velvets  were 
entirely  out  of  style.  In  fact  the  description 
of  the  eccentric  fashions  of  that  time  could 
easily  fill  a  large  and  interesting  volume. 
Strangely  enough  for  a  fashion  book,  however, 
it  would  be  one  that  could  only  be  read  'twixt 
a  smile  and  a  tear. 

When  the  Liberty  Bell  was  taken  from 
Philadelphia  to  New  Orleans,  Mr.  Davis  met 
it  at  Biloxi,  January  26,  1885.  The  committee 
invited  him  most  cordially  to  go  with  them  to 
New  Orleans,  and  in  response  to  a  speech  of 
welcome  Mr.  Davis  spoke  with  an  eloquence 
that  thrilled  his  hearers.  His  little  grand- 

104 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

daughter  patted  the  bell  with  her  tiny  hands 
and  lisped,  "  God  bless  the  dear  old  bell." 

Mr.  Davis  died  in  New  Orleans  on  the  6th 
of  December,  1889. 

One  by  one,  nearly  all  of  the  leaders  of  the 
North  and  the  South  have  answered  to  the 
last  call  and  sleep  in  their  last  camping  ground. 
Perhaps  no  one  has  versed  these  thoughts 
more  beautifully  than  Mrs.  Margaret  Hunt 
Brisbane  : 

"Sleep,  brothers,  sleep! 

Your  fame  will  keep 
As  fresh  and  pure  as  the  winds  that  sweep 

O'er  ferny  fell  and  fen ; 
In  whiter  tents  than  we  ever  knew, 
In  peace  eternal,  grand  and  true, 
To-day  the  fallen  gray  and  blue 

Are  camped  with  God." 

Very  near  Beauvoir  is  the  Sea  Shore  Camp 
Ground  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 
It  belongs  to  the  New  Orleans,  Mobile  and 
Sea  Shore  District  Conference.  It  is  quite  a 
charming  place,  and  has  a  frontage  of  1,400 
feet  and  is  two  miles  deep.  This  camp  ground 
proves  that  the  good  old  customs  are  not  all 
obsolete,  and  who  knows  but  that  these  soul- 
stirring  Methodist  hymns,  as  they  are  carried 
far  out  over  the  gulf  in  wave  after  wave  of 

I05 


Romance  and  Realism 

sound,  are  not  caught  beneath  the  water  and 
given  back  to  us  in  that  strange,  mysterious 
music  of  the  sea  ?  Some  of  the  old  negroes 
tell  that  in  that  long  ago  when  their  sea-shore 
revivals  were  held,  many  of  their  members 
"came  through"  with  religious  ecstacy,  and 
rushing  into  the  sea  believed  it  to  be  the  river 
Jordan  washing  away  their  sins.  They  say 
that  the  sea  imprisoned  these  wild  shouts  and 
singing,  and  that  the  storms  free  these  sounds 
and  they  come  back  to  us  in  strange,  fitful 
notes. 

When  we  reach  the  poetic  subject  of  the 
mysterious  music  of  the  gulf,  Science  bends 
her  knitted  brows  in  thought,  and  a  wild,  sweet 
range  is  given  to  the  touch  of  romance.  Some 
of  the  legends  regarding  this  music  are  given 
in  the  following  poem,  written  by  Mrs.  Laura 
F.  Hinsdale : 

"There  is  a  time  when  summer  stars  are  glowing, 

And  night  is  fair  along  the  Southern  shore, 
The  sailor  resting  when  the  tide  is  flowing 

Hears  somewhere  near  below  his  waiting  oar 
A  haunting  tone,  now  vanishing,  now  calling, 

Now  lost,  now  luring  like  some  elfin  air; 
In  murmurous  music  fathoms  downward  falling, 
It  seems  a  dream  of  song  imprisoned  there. 
106 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

The  legend  tells  a  phantom  ship  is  beating 

On  yonder  bar,  a  wanderer  evermore, 
Its  rhythmic  music,  evanescent,  fleeting, 

Stirs  the  lagoon  and  echoes  on  the  shore. 
O !  phantom  ship,  dost  near  that  port  Elysian 

Where  radiant  rainbow  colors  ever  play  ? 
Shall  hope's  mirage  return  a  blessed  vision, 

And  canst  thou  find  a  joy  of  yesterday  ? 

The  legend  tells  of  a  pale  horseman  fleeing 

Whose  steed  the  gnomes  with  metals  strange  have  shod, 
Who  on  and  on,  a  distant  summit  seeing, 

His  way  pursues  in  ocean  paths  untrod. 
His  spectral  hoofs  by  the  evangel  bidden 

In  far  Carillons  beat  in  measure  low. 
Elusive  tone !  dost  near  where  that  is  hidden 

Which  made  the  music  of  the  long  ago  ? 

The  legend  tells  of  sirens  of  the  ocean 

That  wander,  singing,  where  the  sea  palms  rise, 
And  through  the  songs  intense  and  measured  motion 

I  seem  to  hear  their  soft  imprisoned  sighs. 
They  lure  me  like  the  spell  of  a  magician — 

Once  more  I  see  the  palaces  of  Spain, 
I  feel  the  kindling  thrill  of  young  ambition — 

The  tide  sweeps  on,  the  song  is  lost  again. 

The  legend  tells  of  vocal  sea  sands  sifting, 

With  vibrant  forces,  resonant  and  strong, 
And  on  the  surging  sand-dunes  fretting,  drifting, 

Like  broken  hearts  that  hide  their  grief  in  song. 
Tell  me,  white  atoms,  in  your  sad  oblation 

Of  drift  that  lies  so  deep  that  none  may  scan, 
Is  it  forgotten  in  God's  great  creation 

Who  formed  the  fleeting  hour-glass  life  of  man  ? 
107 


Romance  and  Realism 

The  legend  tells  of  those  who  long  have  slumbered, 

A  forest  race  too  valorous  to  flee, 
Who  when  in  battle  by  their  foes  outnumbered 

With  clasping  hands  came  singing  to  the  sea. 
The  ocean  drew  them  to  her  hidden  keeping, 

The  stars  watched  o'er  them  in  the  deep  above — 
Their  death  lingers,  but  the  tones  of  weeping 

Tell  the  eternity  of  human  love." 

This  last  verse  embodies  the  sweetest,  sad- 
dest, and  most  generally  accepted  of  all  the 
legends.  This  music  is  heard  more  distinctly 
at  Pascagoula  than  any  other  point  on  the 
coast.  The  sound  is  like  that  of  an  Eolian 
harp  when  stirred  by  a  soft,  gentle  wind. 
This  is  the  pathetic  story  of  the  Pascagoula 
tribe : 

It  was  one  of  the  most  powerful  on  the  sea- 
coast,  and  ruled  over  what  is  now  Pascagoula, 
Scranton,  and  Moss  Point.  Olustee,  the  son 
of  the  chief,  while  hunting,  met  Miona,  the 
daughter  of  a  neighboring  chief,  and  together 
they  learned  the  sweet  old  story.  Olustee 
begged  that  she  would  come  to  his  people  and 
be  the  light  of  his  wigwam,  but  with  tears  she 
told  him  that  her  father  had  pledged  her  to  the 
fierce  Otanga,  the  chief  of  the  Biloxis.  Her 
love  for  Olustee,  however,  proved  to  be  greater 
than  her  fear  of  her  father,  and,  yielding  to  his 
entreaties,  she  fled  with  him  to  Pascagoula. 

1 08 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

Coosa,  his  father,  the  great  chief,  was  charmed 
with  her  beauty,  sweetness,  and  grace,  and 
the  next  day,  'midst  the  rejoicing  of  the  tribe, 
the  nuptials  were  to  take  place.  The  wrathful 
Otanga  heard  of  the  flight  of  his  bride,  and 
joining  her  father,  they  fell  that  night  upon 
the  sleeping  tribe  of  the  Pascagoulas.  Bravely 
the  latter  fought,  but  Olustee,  seeing  that  his 
tribe  was  about  to  be  conquered,  begged  that 
they  would  deliver  him  to  the  enemy,  as  he 
had  been  the  cause  of  strife,  but  Miona  said  : 

"Otanga  wants  but  me, 
And,  as  this  bloody  war  was  for  my  sake, 
Give  me  to  him,  and  he  will  leave  thee  free." 

The  brave  warriors  swore,  however,  that 
they  would  either  save  their  chieftain  and  his 
bride  or  perish  with  them  in  the  sea ;  that  their 
tribe  should  never  be  in  subjection  to  the  hated 
Biloxians.  And  so,  when  all  hope  was  lost, 
squaws  and  children  led  the  way,  the  braves 
followed  with  chants  of  victory,  and  all  plunged 
into  the  sea.  The  last  victims,  after  a  tender 
embrace,  being  Olustee  and  the  beautiful 
Miona.  Together  they  went  to  the  Happy 
Hunting  Grounds. 

Bienville  heard  this  music  of  the  sea,  and 
records  it  in  his  narrative  ;  but  neither  poetry 

109 


Romance  and  Realism 

nor  science  has  yet  discovered  the  Rosetta 
stone  by  which  the  mystery  can  be  solved. 
In  the  Popular  Science  Monthly  (April,  1890), 
Mr.  Chas.  E.  Chidsey  has  an  article  on  the 
mysterious  music  of  Pascagoula.  He  ad- 
vances the  theory  of  Darwin  and  Charles 
Kingsley  as  to  similar  music  heard  on  the 
southern  coast  of  France.  In  his  "  Descent 
of  Man,"  Darwin  says:  "The  last  point 
which  need  be  noticed  is  that  fishes  are  known 
to  make  various  noises,  some  of  which  are  de- 
scribed as  musical.  Dr.  Dufosse,  who  has 
especially  attended  to  this  subject,  says  that 
the  sounds  are  voluntarily  produced  in  several 
ways  by  different  fishes ;  by  the  friction  of  the 
pharyngeal  bones  ;  by  the  vibration  of  certain 
muscles  attached  to  the  swim  bladder,  which 
serves  as  a  resounding  board,  and  by  the  vi- 
bration of  the  intrinsic  muscles  of  the  swim 
bladder.  By  this  latter  means,  the  Trigla 
produces  pure  and  long  drawn  sounds,  which 
range  over  nearly  an  octave.  But  the  most 
interesting  case  for  us  is  that  of  two  species 
of  Ophidium,  in  which  the  males  alone  are 
provided  with  a  sound-producing  apparatus, 
consisting  of  small,  movable  bones  with  proper 
muscles  in  connection  with  the  swim  bladder. 
The  drumming  of  the  Unbrinas  in  the  Euro- 
no 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

pean  seas  is  said  to  be  audible  from  a  depth 
of  twenty  fathoms,  and  the  fishermen  of  Ro- 
chelle  assert  that  the  males  alone  make  the 
noise  during  spawning  time,  and  that  it  is  pos- 
sible, by  imitating  it,  to  take  them  without 
bait."  Prof.  G.  Brown  Goode,  in  his  "Amer- 
can  Fishes,"  mentions  several  species  to  which 
the  name  "drum"  has  been  given,  because  of 
their  ability  to  produce  sound. 

But  who  would  believe  that  this  dream  of 
song  comes  from  a  drum  or  any  other  kind  of 
fish,  when  we  can  enter  the  vast  realms  of  fancy 
and  learn  that  it  is  sound  from  a  phantom  ship, 
or  the  echo  from  the  spectral  hoofs  of  the  pale 
horseman's  steed  as  he  pursues  the  oceans 
paths,  or  that  it  is  the  siren's  alluring  voice 
or  imprisoned  sighs,  or  that  it  is  the  vocal  sea 
sands  drifting,  or  the  lament  of  Indian  ro- 
mance ? 

Like  a  mirage  from  the  past,  tradition  brings 
to  us  visions  of  romance  and  adventure  with 
every  step  that  we  take  upon  this  enchanted 
shore.  Even  the  flowers  distill  their  fragrance 
with  memories  of  the  past,  and  the  white 
Cherokee  rose  bends  and  blooms  as  sweetly 
now  as  it  did  in  that  night  of  long  ago,  when 
its  soft  radiance  illuminated  the  pathway  of  the 
good  Father  Davion.  Lost  in  the  tangled 

in 


Romance  and  Realism 

depths  of  palmetto  and  swaying  reeds,  he 
vainly  sought  the  pathway  to  Fort  Louis.  At 
last  the  light  from  a  Cherokee  encampment 
gleamed  upon  him,  and  there  he  found  refuge. 
That  night  he  prayed  long  and  earnestly  that 
he  might  be  restored  to  his  people.  Sleep 
came  and 

"  In  a  dream  he  saw  once  more  his  mother's  tender  eyes 
Bending  above  him  in  the  light  that  fell  from  Paradise." 

Pointing  to  a  snow-white  flower,  she  told 
him  that  it  would  lead  him  to  his  home.  In  a 
pathway  of  light  the  roses  descended  from 
Heaven  to  earth,  and  above  them  he  saw 
among  the  stars,  the  Master's  crown  of  thorns. 

Waking,  he  found,  with  joyous  wonder,  the 
flowers  blooming  around  him,  and  extending 
far  into  the  depths  of  the  forest.  Ever  before 
him  they  sprang  up  to  mark  his  pathway— 

"Follow,"  they  seemed  to  whisper,  "for  we  are  leading 

thee 
Onward  and  ever  onward  to  the  old  fort  by  the  sea." 

Over  white  sand  dunes  they  led  him,  and 
when  swollen  bayous  were  reached,  they 
tangled  their  tiny  tendrils  into  strong  bridges 
upon  which  he  crossed.  On  and  on  they  led 
him  until  at  Fort  Louis  he  heard  the  joyous 
welcome  of  Sauvolle  and  his  comrades.  And  in 


112 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

the  forest  we  still  find  this  Cherokee  rose 
"with  its  snow-flake  petals  and  heart  of 
golden  light." 

Sometimes  on  dark  summer  nights  when 
moon  and  stars  forget  to  shine,  a  soft  light 
descends  upon  the  waters  illuminating  sea  and 
shore,  and  the  mariner  stills  the  uplifted  oar 
and  bows  his  head  in  reverential  memory  of 
woman's  faith  and  woman's  love. 

In  the  early  days  of  the  colony,  when  the 
little  band  struggled  with  disease  and  hard- 
ship, famine  stalked  into  their  midst,  and,  lift- 
ing its  skinny  hand,  laid  a  deadly  touch  upon 
its  victims.  The  grand  monarch,  hearing  the 
voice  of  his  children  crying  for  bread,  sent  a 
ship  across  the  stormy  waters  laden  with  all 
that  could  relieve  their  distress. 

The  white  sails  were  about  to  be  unfurled 
when  a  beautiful  woman,  Eona,  tearful  and 
flushed,  knelt  at  the  feet  of  her  king,  and 
begged  that  her  lover,  only  yesterday  given  to 
her  in  the  bonds  of  wedlock,  should  not  be 
sent  to  this  far-away  land  of  unknown  trial  and 
danger. 

"What!"  said  the  king  with  reproving 
glance.  "  Do  you  forget  his  duty  as  a  soldier, 
and  would  you  unnerve  the  courage  that 
should  rescue  the  destitute  and  starving?  " 


Romance  and  Realism 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

The  roses  faded  from  her  cheeks  as  she 
fainted  beneath  the  realization  of  her  sorrow. 

With  the  memory  of  his  kisses  still  upon 
her  lips,  she  knelt  before  the  altar  in  the 
darkened  chapel.  Day  after  day  passed,  but 
to  her  time  and  earth  were  forgotten,  and  her 
soul  was  uplifted  in  agonized  prayer  for  the 
safety  of  her  beloved.  Her  little  hands 
clasped  upon  her  breast,  became  as  waxen  in 
their  pallor  as  the  white  draperies  that  wrapped 
her  slender,  graceful  form,  the  frost  of  sorrow 
whitened  her  raven  tresses,  and  the  statue  of 
the  Virgin  above  the  altar  seemed  no  purer  and 
motionless  than  the  grief-stricken  figure.  But 
when  life  seemed  to  have  been  absorbed  in 
the  intensity  of  her  entreaty,  music  not  born 
of  earth  floated  down  upon  her ;  a  heavenly 
peace  descended  upon  her,  and  a  voice  of 
angelic  sweetness  whispered  that  there  is  a 
love  of  such  holy  birth  that  its  radiance  can 
forever  light  the  path  of  its  beloved. 

The  rescue-laden  ship  sped  on  over  the  vast 
stretch  of  waters  until  she  entered  the  gulf,  but 
when  she  had  almost  reached  the  land,  the 
darkness  of  deepest  night  descended  upon 
her.  Fear  came  upon  the  hearts  of  the 
mariners,  their  cheeks  paled,  and  with  startled 
glance  they  looked  out  upon  the  waters  for 


Romance  and  Realism 

the  dreaded  wreckers.  The  vessel  drifted, 
they  knew  not  where,  but  suddenly  the  sea 
was  illuminated  with  a  soft  light,  and  they  saw 
before  them  the  safety  of  Ship  Island  harbor. 

While  joy  reigned  that  the  ship  was  safely 
landed,  that  bread  was  given  to  the  starving, 
the  soldier  lover  knew  that  the  light  of  faith 
had  guided  them,  that  the  prayer  of  Eona  had 
enfolded  them  with  heavenly  protection. 

The  day  of  wreckers  has  gone,  and  our  land 
is  one  of  smiling  plenty,  but  Eona's  light  still 
comes  to  prove  that  love  can  be  lifted  above 
all  earthly  dross,  and  that  it  can  live  beyond 
the  grave,  limitless  as  time  itself. 

The  legends  of  the  Cherokee  rose  and  of 
Eona  are  taken  from  Mrs.  Laura  F.  Hinsdale's 
charming  little  book  of  poems,  Legends  and 
Lyrics  of  the  Gulf  Coast. 

As  a  resident  of  the  coast,  Mrs.  Hinsdale 
has  taken  the  greatest  interest  in  its  beautiful 
romances. 

116 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

The  Illinois  Central  and  Louisville  and  Nash- 
ville Railroads  have  largely  assisted  in  de- 
veloping the  sea  coast.  Especially  the  Louis- 
ville and  Nashville  road,  as  it  runs  parallel  with 
the  gulf,  giving  almost  a  constant  view  of  its 
waters,  and  passing  through  the  main  sea 
coast  towns. 

Soon  after  leaving  New  Orleans,  on  the 
Louisville  and  Nashville  Railroad,  Chef  Men- 
teur  is  reached.  Translated  into  English,  the 
name  means  "  Lying  Chief,"  and  thereby 
hangs  a  tale. 

The  Choctaws  were  especially  averse  to  ly- 
ing, and  when  one  of  their  chiefs  yielded  con- 
tinually to  this  habit,  they  banished  him  from 
the  tribe,  and  he  established  his  home  at  Chef 
Menteur.  While  the  name  commemorates 
the  frailty  of  one  Indian,  it  speaks  in  eloquent 
terms  of  the  truthfulness  of  the  entire  tribe. 
The  Choctaw  of  that  day  was  not  sufficiently 
civilized  to  acquire  the  habit  of  lying. 

Past  is  the  day  when  the  Indian  lover  lighted 
his  torch,  and  with  beating  heart  went  to  the 

117 


Romance  and  Realism. 

wigwam  of  his  beloved,  to  learn  his  fate.  Hap- 
piness was  to  be  his  if  she  met  him  and  blew 
out  the  light ;  but  keen  was  his  disappoint- 
ment if  she  refused  to  look  at  the  light,  and, 
turning  her  back  upon  him,  veiled  her  face 
with  her  raven  tresses.  Past  are  these  days  of 
Indian  romance,  and  passing  away  are  all  of 
the  Indians.  In  the  pathetic  language  of  the 
last  chief  of  the  Pottawattamies— in  the  twen- 
tieth century  the  Indians  will  be  absorbed  by 
the  dominant  race,  and  they  will  follow  the 
buffalo  into  the  land  of  memories  and  fables. 

In  contrast  with  our  own  day,  the  following 
from  the  pen  of  M.  W.  Conelley  embodies  much 
interest  of  Indian  life. 

"  He  loved  nature,  and  was  satisfied  with 
it  as  he  found  it.  He  did  not  deface  the 
earth.  He  did  not  alter  the  physical  face 
of  nature.  He  lived  in  comfort  and  at  ease, 
and  never  subjected  himself  to  high  pres- 
sure as  we  do  to-day.  He  did  not  consume 
the  tribal  or  natural  resources  in  building 
levees  to  control  floods.  When  the  waters 
were  flung  down  upon  the  lowlands,  he  reared 
mounds  to  the  summits  of  which  he  ascended, 
and  remained  safe  until  they  abated.  Where 
the  forests  grew  he  was  content  to  leave 
them  in  primeval  splendor,  He  burned  the 

118 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

dry  grass  and  small  shrubs  every  year,  making 
of  the  forest  a  grand  park  through  which  wild 
deer  could  be  seen  feeding,  and  over  which 
the  wild  turkey  roamed.  This  forest  and  the 
streams  which  flowed  through  it  were  his 
smokehouse  and  granary.  When  he  desired 
food  he  went  out  and  supplied  his  needs.  He 
did  not  take  fish  from  the  water  or  inflict  death 
on  wild  animals  for  'sport,'  as  does  the  white 
man.  He  did  not  exterminate  for  the  mere 
love  of  destroying  life.  In  his  forest  temple 
he  worshiped  the  Supreme  Being,  and  his  un- 
tutored mind  saw  God  in  clouds  or  heard  him 
in  the  winds,  and  the  dryads  in  their  trees 
communed  with  him.  Truly,  he  was  a  child 
of  nature.  In  the  red  man's  economy  there 
were  none  of  those  perplexities  that  vex  a 
higher  civilization.  There  were  no  strikes  or 
lockouts  or  boycotts.  There  were  no  walking 
delegates  or  plutocrats  or  paupers.  There  was 
no  land  or  tariff  question  or  tax  question  or 
labor  question.  High  license  and  prohibition 
were  unknown.  There  were  no  new  women 
or  social  problems  or  sexual  aberrations.  No 
one  was  ever  hunting  a  job,  and  the  genius  of 
the  tramp  had  not  yet  developed.  The  Indian 
was  contented.  He  demanded  and  expected 
no  more  of  life  than  he  could  easily  obtain. 

119 


Romance  and  Realism 

He  had  no  jails  or  reformatories,  no  saloons 
or  other  resorts  of  established  reputation. 
There  were  no  policemen  or  sheriffs,  no  courts 
or  combines.  The  Indian  is  passing  away  and 
will  soon  be  a  memory,  but  the  study  of  his  life 
will  be  a  valuable  lesson  to  those  who  are  being 
consumed  by  the  fever  of  civilized  conflict.'* 

Near  Fort  Rosalie,  where  the  Natchez  lighted 
their  fires  and  sang  their  songs,  modern  his- 
toric romance  has  chronicled  its  stories.  It 
was  near  here  that  Aaron  Burr's  flotilla 
sent  a  wild  thrill  of  excitement  through 
the  country,  and  his  domineering,  impatient 
spirit  chafed  against  the  martial  and  civic  re- 
strictions that  encircled  him.  It  was  here  that 
in  the  trellised  walks  and  sheltered  arbor  of 
Half-way  Hill  he  met  beautiful  Madeline. 
Under  the  influence  of  his  fascinations  and 
the  finished  polish  of  his  manner,  her  heart 
quivered  into  new  life  and  happiness.  On  the 
night  of  his  wild  flight,  when  his  horse  was 
stopped  beneath  her  window,  and  he  entreated 
her  to  go  with  him,  her  innate  purity  and  a 
mother's  protecting  love  alone  saved  her  from 
inevitable  misery. 

But  he  carried  with  him  her  sacred  covenant 
and  pledge,  from  which,  however,  he  released 


120 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

her  when  he  wandered  in  foreign  lands,  an 
outcast,  desolate  and  poverty-stricken. 

It  was  also  in  historic  Natchez  that  Andrew 
Jackson  wooed  and  won  Mrs.  Rachel  Robards, 
nee  Donaldson.  He  was  married  to  her  at 
the  residence  of  Thomas  Marston  Green,  in 
Jefferson  county.  The  soldier  who  turned  a 
rugged  front  to  English  bullets  and  Indian  ar- 
rows surrendered  to  the  charms  of  this  sweet 
woman.  She  was  afterward  a  source  of  un- 
failing comfort  in  his  domestic  life,  and  infinite 
pride  in  the  attractive  grace  with  which  she  pre- 
sided over  the  high  social  duties  of  his  position. 

The  small  compass  of  this  book  does  not 
permit  justice  to  all  the  romantic  spots  upon 
the  coast — the  wishing-well  of  Scranton,  the 
lovers'  oak  at  Pascagoula,  the  oak  that  has 
listened  to  tender  words  told  in  the  Indian  di- 
alect, in  impassioned  French,  in  soft  Spanish, 
or  in  English.  Love  enters  into  all  languages, 
and  yet  it  has  been  truly  said  that  it  has  a  lan- 
guage of  its  own  whose  eloquence  needs  no 
words  for  expression.  Love  and  life  are  insep- 
arable, for  love  has  lighted  the  world  ever  since 
the  example  of  that  first  affair  in  the  Garden 
of  Eden. 

Romance  and  history  have  woven  their 
charms  for  each  place  on  this  balmy  shore, 

121 


Romance  and  Realism 

where  one  "  could  never  find  the  skeleton 
nakedness  of  leafless  forests,  the  fair  earth 
resting  under  a  funereal  winding  sheet  of  snow, 
and  the  babbling  rills  and  laughing  brooks 
hushed  into  frozen  silence." 

The  names  of  many  places  link  together  past 
and  present  associations.  Heron  Bay  commem- 
orates the  number  of  herons  found  there.  Man- 
chac  means  strait  or  pass,  and  connects  Missis- 
sippi River  with  Lake  Maurepas.  The  name 
Chandelier  Island  was  given  because  discovered 
on  the  day  when  the  Catholic  Church  celebrated 
the  feast  of  the  presentation  of  Christ  in  the 
temple  and  the  purification  of  the  Virgin  Mary. 
It  is  flat,  sandy  and  unprepossessing,  but  noted 
for  its  wonderful  bird  eggs.  The  name  Pass 
Christian  tells  the  story  of  the  Norwegian 
sailor  who  first  discovered  the  deep  channel 
that  is  near  this  point,  or  perhaps  it  may  com- 
memorate the  time  when  the  early  priests 
taught  the  Indians  the  first  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity. Bay  St.  Louis  was  so  named  by  Bien- 
ville  because  the  French  arrived  there  on  the 
day  of  St.  Louis,  son  of  the  beautiful  and  vir- 
tuous Blanche  of  Castile.  Pass  Christian  and 
Bay  St.  Louis  are  two  of  the  most  attractive 
places  on  the  coast,  and  especially  popular 
with  the  people  of  New  Orleans. 

122 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

Bois  d'Ore  means  "  gilded  woods,"  for  there 
the  trees  were  found  resplendent  with  color. 
Even  the  "  cow  counties  "  on  the  coast,  Har- 
rison and  Hancock,  have  an  association  more 
poetic  than  the  bovines  that  now  roam  their 
fields,  for  the  name  originally  meant  the  home 
of  the  buffalo — Terre  aux  Boeufs,  or  "  Land  of 
Beeves." 

If  time  permitted,  it  would  be  a  delight  to 
linger  at  each  of  these  seaside  towns,  that  ex- 
tend almost  continuously  on  the  coast,  in 
Louisiana,  Mississippi,  Alabama,  and  Florida. 
The  stay,  however,  in  this  land  of  beautiful 
dreams  and  realities  must  end. 

As  the  object  of  this  little  volume  has  sim- 
ply been  the  collection  of  charming  romances 
and  incidents  of  the  sea-coast,  no  effort  has 
been  made  to  mention  special  places,  enter- 
prises, and  people.  Biloxi  is  mentioned  as  a 
typical  town,  not  that,  with  all  its  charms,  it 
has  greater  attractions  than  some  other  places, 
but  it  can  claim  the  distinction  of  having  been 
the  first  permanent  settlement,  and,  therefore, 
to  it  is  given  the  special  attention  and  defer- 
ence that  is  due  to  old  age. 

The  name  Biloxi  means  "  broken  jar,"  and 
it  was  here  that  Sauvelle,  Tonti,  and  many  of 
the  early  heroes  found  a  last  resting-place  in 

123 


Romance  and  Realism 

Fort  Maurepas.  Many  of  the  homes  retain 
the  picturesque  architecture  of  the  old  colonial 
period.  The  progress  of  the  present  combines 
with  the  quaint  attractions  of  the  past. 

One  evening,  a  friend  and  I  planned  a  visit 
to  Aunt  Eliza,  one  of  the  old  inhabitants  of 
the  place.  She  opened  the  door  of  her  neat 
cabin. 

"Aunt  Eliza,"  said  I,  "  we  are  strangers 
visiting  Biloxi,  and  came  to  make  you  a  little 
call." 

Immediately  her  black  face  lighted  with 
cordial  hospitality,  and  she  bustled  around  to 
get  chairs  for  us,  dusting  each  carefully  with 
her  apron, 

"  Won'  you  res'  yer  hats  ?"  said  she. 

"  No ;  we  just  want  you  to  tell  us  some- 
thing of  Biloxi,  and  what  it  was  years  ago, 
How  long  have  you  lived  here  ?" 

"  Ever  sence  I  waz  jes  that  high,"  said  she, 
holding  her  hand  a  little  above  the  floor. 
"An'  I  cum  from  Ole  Virginny,  an'  my  fambly 
was  the  Stevens  fambly,  on  Jeems  river,  one 
uv  the  fust  in  the  land  ;"  and  she  bristled  with 
pride. 

It  was  not  long  before  she  began  to  talk  of 
religion,  for  nearly  all  old  darkies  are  religious 
to  a  morbid  degree,  but  we  gently  pulled  her 

124 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

wandering  remarks  back  to  what  was  most 
interesting  to  us,  the  past.  Soon  in  speaking  of 
the  dizzy  gayety  of  her  youth,  her  religion 
ebbed  slowly  into  the  background. 

"Dans!  I  could  cut  de  pigon  wing  and  out 
dans  de  debbil,"  and  she  chuckled  to  herself. 
"  Onct,  when  Miss  Anne  hed  company,  she 
cum  out  ter  de  cabin  wid  oneuv  young  mistiss 
ole  party  cloes,  an  sez,  '  Liza  put  thes  on  yer 
and  thes  long  gluvs  an  this  mas,  an  cum  inter 
the  settin  room  an  dans  ter-night,'  an  they  clap 
ther  hans,  an  Miss  Anne  laffed  an  laffed  sorter 
sof  to  hersef,  kase  me  an  her  wuz  the  onliest 
ones  wat  knowed  it  was  little  black  Liza  dan- 
sin,"  and  the  good  old  soul  beamed  with  de- 
light over  this  retrospect  of  the  fascinating 
wickedness  of  her  young  days. 

Ah!  those  happy  times  when  the  sym- 
pathetic bond  between  mistress  and  maid 
radiated  happiness  on  many  scenes  that  are 
now  fading  into  the  dim  distance  of  the  past. 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation,  Aunt 
Eliza  confided  to  us  that  one  of  the  dreads  of 
her  life  had  been  that  she  would  have  some 
trouble  with  a  blue  gum  nigger  who  might 
bite  her.  "  Fur,"  she  said,  "  I'd  rather  be  bit 
by  a  rattlesnake  than  a  blue  gum  nigger."  This 


Romance  and  Realism 

is  a  common  superstition  with   nearly  all  ne- 
groes. 

As  the  Indian  estimated  time  by  a  bundle  of 
sticks,  so  the  negro  often  estimates  it  by  some 
tender,  sweet  association,  for  instance— 

"  How  old  is  your  boy,  Aunt  Dinah  ?  " 

"Who,  dat  Rastus?  He'll  be  nigh  onto 
sebenteen  nex  watermillion  time." 

It  is  characteristic  for  them  to  use  big  words 
and  always  to  assume  an  air  of  importance  in 
a  court-room. 

Judge — "  What  about  this  case — have  you 
a  lawyer  to  defend  you  ?  " 

-No,  sah." 

-What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  How 
will  you  get  along  without  one  ?  " 

"  Well,  Jedge,  I  went  out  and  insulted  one, 
an  he  tole  me  jes  to  cum  in  an  thro  myself  on  de 
ignoance  uv  de  cote." 

Among  the  quaint  characters  of  Biloxi  is 
George  Ohr,  the  potter.  He  says  that  he  is 
full  of  philosophy,  and  can  argue  human 
nature  with  you  all  day.  His  mustache  is  two 
feet  long  from  tip  to  tip,  and  he  wears  it  drawn 
behind  his  ears.  George  is  never  tired  of  im- 
pressing his  visitors  with  the  fact  that  the 
fools  are  not  all  dead  yet,  nor  all  born  yet. 

In  the  rectory  yard  of  Biloxi,  a  giant  live 
126 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 


Romance  and  Realism 

oak  stands  in  the  majestic  beauty  of  its  old 
age.  In  the  long  ago,  its  young  branches 
twined  a  circlet  that  blessed  two  happy  hearts  ; 
a  circlet  that  is  still  distinctly  visible,  and  tells 
to  each  passer-by  its  strange,  sweet  story  of 
Indian  romance. 

A  Biloxi  chief  discovered  that  his  daughter 
loved  the  son  of  another  chief — his  bitterest 
enemy.  When  the  young  people  pleaded 
their  love,  he  turned  from  them  with  flashing 
eyes,  and  pointing  wrathfully  to  the  young 
oak  above,  exclaimed : 

"No!  The  young  fawn  can  never  be  the 
light  of  your  wigwam  until  a  ring  grows  in  the 
branches  of  yonder  oak." 

And  then — O,  wonder  of  wonders  ! — during 
the  succeeding  night,  a  terrific  storm  twisted 
the  young  branch  into  a  distinct  ring,  that 
grew  as  firm  as  the  tree  itself.  The  terrified 
old  chief  felt  that  nature  commanded  a  blessing 
that  he  dared  not  refuse.  For  what  could 
have  worked  such  a  marvel  but  the  touch  of 
the  dreaded  Thunder  Being  ? 

"  In  Sunny  Mississippi,"  Julian  Ralph  tells 
us  of  the  sensuous,  dreamy,  delicious,  soothing 
nature  of  the  sea-coast  fever,  and  that  no  one 
who  has  it  would  be  cured  of  it  on  any  ac- 
count ;  that  a  patient  with  it  will  be  observed 

128 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

to  talk  rationally  and  to  sustain  ordinary  light 
conversation,  but  will  on  no  account  move 
from  a  chair,  unless  it  is  to  drop  into  the  next 
vacant  seat.  He  tells  of  the  northern  editor 
to  whom  was  handed  a  New  Orleans  paper 
containing  the  account  of  the  burning  of  his 
business  house  •  but  the  editor  pushed  it  away, 
saying : 

"  Let  her  burn.  I  am  here  for  rest,  and 
don't  want  business  mixed  up  with  it." 

In  the  early  days  of  the  colony,  domestic 
ties  and  happiness  were  left  in  the  homes  be- 
yond the  sea,  and  the  prattle  of  little  children 
was  unknown  in  the  rude  cabin  of  the  pioneer. 
In  the  love  of  beautiful  Indian  girls,  there  was 
the  fascination  of  unlicensed  freedom  and  a 
demoralization  of  the  finer  instincts.  When 
refined,  cultivated  women  and  civilization  came, 
as  they  always  do,  hand  in-hand,  many  of  the 
bronzed,  rugged  men  welcomed  them  eagerly, 
but  with  others  an  effort  was  required  to  wake 
them  from  the  moral  torpor  into  which  they 
had  fallen. 

Premiums  were  offered  to  the  men  who 
would  marry,  and  premiums  were  given  for 
children.  In  the  French  and  Canadian  colo- 
nies, men  were  offered  a  year's  pay  and  their 
discharge  from  the  army  if  they  would  marry. 

129 


Romance  and  Realism 

But  now  the  coast  resounds  with  the  voices  of 
happy  children  ;  their  white,  dimpled  fingers 
smooth  away  the  cares  of  maturer  years,  and 
the  soft,  bracing  air  cures  all  childish  ailments. 
It  is  the  children's  paradise  of  birds  and  flow- 
ers and  dancing  waters.  The  small  army  of 
invaders  march  into  the  sea  and  embrace  it, 
for  they  love  it. 

There  is  a  saying  that  the  sea  has  no 
friends,  and  that  its  salt  waters  are  made  of 
women's  tears.  They  tell  us  that  when  its 
charms  tempt  the  mariners  far  out  upon  its 
surface,  its  treacherous  smiles  are  often 
changed  to  tempests,  and  they  are  drawn 
beneath  the  raging  waters,  or  the  Lorelei 
charms  them  upon  the  rocks  of  destruction. 

They  tell  us,  too,  of  an  island,  fair  and 
beautiful,  that  stood  out  in  the  sea,  a  seeming 
haven  of  rest  for  the  weary  man  of  business, 
or  a  flower-strewn  pathway  for  the  child  of 
fashion  and  frivolity.  There  a  Lethean  for- 
getfulness  of  care  and  the  distant,  noisy  world 
wrapt  them  in  delightful  content,  and  little 
recked  they  when,  as  the  evening  shadows 
fell,  a  cloud  no  larger  than  a  man's  hand  ap- 
peared in  the  distant  blue  sky.  And  when  the 
gentle  evening  breeze  stiffened  into  a  gale, 
and  the  waves  broke  with  a  dull  boom  upon 

130 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

the  shore,  it  was  to  the  revelers  only  the  ex- 
hilaration of  a  beautiful  danger  far  removed. 
The  ball-room's  mingled  sounds  vied  with  the 
tempest's  noise  without  ; — the  sounds  of 
mingled  music  and  laughter,  the  gentle  mur- 
mur of  friendship,  or  the  impetuous  words 
that  woke  with  the  dawn  of  love.  But  the 
sea,  envious  of  this  joyous  scene,  dashed  its 
strong  waves  against  the  building,  and  shook 
it  with  fearful  power.  The  cruel  waters 
suddenly  crept  over  the  ball-room  floor, 
over  the  satin  slippers  and  dancing  feet ; 
trembling  words  were  stayed  upon  pallid  lips ; 
the  wild  instinct  of  flight  was  met  with  a 
fiercer  invasion  of  the  waters,  and  the  sway- 
ing, fainting  figures  were  engulfed  in  seething 
waves. 

The  morning  dawned  upon  a  sea  that  was 
calm  and  beautiful,  but  it  held  within  its 
sepulchral  depths  over  a  hundred  lifeless  forms 
that  only  a  few  hours  before  had  been  instinct 
with  happiness  and  hope.  A  Lost  Island  had 
sunk  far  beneath  its  depths,  and  ever  after- 
ward was  only  a  memory  of  tragic  horror. 

The  sea,  however,  is  always  beautiful — 
beautiful  beyond  description  when  the  sublime 
tempest  seems  to  mingle  sea  and  sky  in  a 
scene  of  tumultuous  ruin,  and  beautiful  beyond 


Romance  and  Realism 

words,  when  in  the  enchanting  calm  of  a  sum- 
mer morning,  it  breaks  upon  the  shining  sands 
of  the  shore  "  with  a  lace-like  frill  of  foamy 
ripples  and  wavelets." 

Not  alone  do  the  voices  of  children  and 
beautiful  homes  contrast  the  past  with  the 
present,  but  commerce  and  trade  are  opening 
every  avenue  of  business  and  speak  of  the 
progress  of  the  Nineteenth  Century. 

The  time  has  passed  when  the  Indian 
roamed  these  shores  with  passive  possession, 
and  thought  that  a  gunshot  was  a  brave,  but 
a  letter  was  a  fraud.  The  white  man's  speak- 
ing bark  speeds  from  the  morning's  press  to 
every  point  of  the  compass.  The  realized 
prophecy  that  thought  shall  fly  around  the 
world  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  is  not  more 
wonderful  than  the  progress  of  steam,  and  the 
electric  illumination  that  reveals  to  us  the 
hidden  secrets  of  science.  Man,  the  inventor 
and  discoverer,  pauses  with  astonishment  at 
the  wonders  of  his  creation,  and  often  some 
modern  convenience  of  every-day  life  starts  a 
train  of  thought,  boundless  in  its  possibilities. 
Back  in  the  thirties  many  of  these  things 
would  only  have  been  considered  wild  flights 
of  imagination,  for  as  late  as  1839,  there  were 
no  telegraphs  nor  railroads  in  Mississippi. 

132 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

In  the  early  settlement  of  the  sea-coast,  the 
vision  of  expectancy  went  no  further  than 
buffalo  wool  and  pearl  fisheries,  and  gems  that 
would  rival  those  of  Peru  and  Mexico.  The 
colonists  starved  in  the  midst  of  unknown 
riches.  Crozat  lost  millions  there,  the  India 
Company  lost  over  twenty  millions  and  the 
king  over  fifty  millions. 

But  now  the  country  blooms  like  a  garden. 
The  Alsatians  and  Germans,  the  first  gardeners 
who  were  tempted  here  by  John  Laws'  brilliant 
bubble,  little  dreamed  of  the  vast  possibility 
of  the  trade  which  they  commenced.  Vege- 
tables of  every  variety  are  raised  ;  also  figs, 
pears,  peaches,  plums,  pomegranates,  pecan 
nuts,  persimmons,  oranges,  etc.  The  Concord, 
Scuppernong  Delaware  and  Ives  Seedling  give 
to  the  coast  magnificent  vineyards,  and  the 
industries  of  wine  making,  agriculture,  and 
dairying  flourish  ;  sheep  and  hogs  also  thrive. 

Immense  quantities  of  the  rarest  and  richest 
fruits  and  vegetables  are  shipped  from  the 
coast.  The  breath  of  the  tropics  is  wafted  to 
the  frozen  North  to  tell  them  that  summer  lives 
to  come  to  them  again,  and  that  it  always 
gladdens  this  beautiful  sea-shore  of  the  sunny 
South.  Mississippi's  forest  territory  is  more 
than  twenty-one  millions  of  acres.  The  rapid 


Romance  and  Realism 

development  of  the  state  can  be  partially  ap- 
preciated from  the  fact  that  in  1880  capital  in- 
vested in  manufacturing  was  $257,244,000,  and 
in  1894  it  was  $800,000,000;  the  value  of 
manufactured  products  in  1880  was  $457,454,- 
777,  and  in  1894  ^  was  $1,000,000,000. 

On  the  sea-coast,  vessels  from  all  parts  of 
the  earth  wait  to  be  laden  with  lumber  from 
the  great  southern  pine  belt — Moss  Point 
alone  having  a  sawmill  worth  a  quarter  of  mil- 
lion dollars.  King  Cotton's  fleecy  staple  is 
shipped  ;  all  the  products  of  agriculture  and 
manufacture,  and  the  great  product  of  Louisi- 
ana, the  vast  Sugar  Bowl  of  America.  And 
the  world  is  happier  that  there  is  such  a  South- 
land to  send  forth  her  treasures. 

All  along  the  sea-shore  stand  the  immense 
live  oaks,  like  giant  sentinels  bringing  past  and 
present  together,  and  from  their  branches 
swings  the  beautiful  Spanish  moss. 

"As  by  some  fairy  fingers  spun 

It  trembles  to  the  wind's  soft  sigh, 
It  sways  to  kisses  of  the  sun 

As  cloud-wreaths  mingle  in  the  sky. 
The  wild  bird  gathers  for  her  brood 

The  floss  to  line  her  sylvan  nest, 
It  screens  her  tender  solitude 

And  softly  veils  her  bed  of  rest." 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

It  was  on  the  southern  sea-shore  that  the 
genius  of  Audubon,  the  great  Louisiana  natu- 
ralist, first  awoke.  The  brilliant  plumage  of 
Louisiana  birds  won  his  boyish  admiration, 
and  afterward  became  themes  of  scientific 
study  that  made  his  name  world-wide. 

Here  are  found  all  varieties  of  birds  that 
are  a  source  of  delight  to  the  man  of  science, 
or  to  the  reckless  sportsman.  Nor  does  the 
destructive  touch  of  the  latter  spare  the  snipe, 
so  sacred  to  the  Biloxian,  because  that  bird 
was  the  sister  of  the  Thunder  Being. 

Along  the  coast  are  vast  canneries,  that  ship 
vegetables,  fruit  and  fish,  and  the  diamond- 
back  terrapin  farms  equal  the  famous  ones  of 
Maryland.  There  are  woolen  and  cotton  fac- 
tories, and  the  rod  and  reel  are  a  source  of 
pleasure  and  profit.  Here  are  found  black 
bass,  pompano,  sheepshead,  redfish,  and  too 
many  others  to  mention.  Their  marvelous 
and  resplendent  coloring  lifts  the  heart  invol- 
untarily to  the  Creator  of  this  beautiful  world. 
To  us  are  given  the  treasures  of  earth,  sea 
and  sky. 

Yellow  fever,  a  visitor  so  much  dreaded  in 
the  past,  is  gradually  but  surely  being  con- 
quered by  improved  and  scientific  knowledge 
of  the  disease.  For  eighteen  years  it  did  not 


Romance  and  Realism 

lift  its  saffron  head,  but  when  in  1897  its  waves 
of  terror  swept  over  the  South,  the  disease,  by 
contrast  with  the  past,  proved  to  be  a  terror  in 
name  only. 

On  the  sea-coast  the  fainting  heart  of  the 
invalid  is  revived,  his  pale  cheeks  are  bronzed 
by  aquatic  sports,  and  the  blood  flows  stronger 
through  his  weakened  body.  He  sleeps  while 
the  mocking-bird  fills  the  night  air  with  trills 
of  purest  melody,  and,  dreaming  of  heavenly 
rest,  he  forgets  the  pain  and  weariness  of  living. 

The  wide  halls  sweep  from  end  to  end 
of  airy  houses,  and  the  verandas  encircling 
shadows  tempt  one  to  constant  enjoyment  of 
fresh- air  treatment. 

When  frost  lays  its  lace-like  net-work  on 
the  windows  of  northern  homes,  here  they 
are  opened  wide  for  the  warm,  sweet  air 
that  is  perfumed  by  the  jasmine,  the  magnolia 
and  the  orange  flowers,  and  roses  climbing  to 
the  tops  of  trellises  mingle  their  rainbow  hues 
of  beauty.  With  it  all,  like  a  refrain  of 
soft,  rippling  music,  there  is  that  strange,  in- 
explicable, but  restful  influence  of  the  sea: 

"Ah!  what  pleasant  visions  haunt  me 

As  I  gaze  upon  the  sea ! 
All  the  old  romantic  legends, 

All  my  dreams,  come  back  to  me. 
136 


of  the  Southern  Gulf  Coast. 

Sails  of  silk,  and  ropes  of  sandal, 
Such  as  gleam  in  ancient  lore; 

And  the  singing  of  the  sailors, 
And  the  answer  from  the  shore ! 

Till  my  soul  is  full  of  longing 

For  the  secret  of  the  sea, 
And  the  heart  of  the  great  ocean 

Sends  a  thrilling  pulse  through  me." 

137 


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